


Winchester Crash Course

by Brambleshadow_of_WindClan



Series: Winchester Crash Course [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-26
Updated: 2014-08-03
Packaged: 2018-01-20 21:57:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 51
Words: 54,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1527161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brambleshadow_of_WindClan/pseuds/Brambleshadow_of_WindClan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written by my friend Sarah (teamfreewillsamdeancas) and originally posted on Tumblr. I asked her if I could crosspost it to here, and she said yes.</p><p>When thirteen-year-old Annabelle Haerven's family was killed in a wendigo attack, she didn't expect to be the only one to survive, nor that she would be saved by two hunters called Sam and Dean. It wasn't long before she joined the two brothers as they taught her everything they knew about the supernatural evils that live in the dark corners and back roads of America . . . and how to kill them. She also didn't expect to fall in love with another teenage hunter, or find out that she could play a crucial role in the war against heaven, hell, and everything in between.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dean

**Author's Note:**

> Written by my friend known as teamfreewillsamdeancas on Tumblr. This is also the story that introduces Annabelle to the Spn mythology, and so it's crucial that you read this before reading any of our other fics with her and the Tenth Doctor. It is completed, with a total of fifty-one chapters, and Sarah has a sequel in the works called _Passing the Test_ , which can be found on her Tumblr.
> 
> It is also narrated by the three main characters. Each narrator will be the chapter title.

It was supposed to be a normal case. We knew this house in the back woods of Colorado was the wendigo’s next target.

Sam and I were staking out the house in the Impala. Five people’s lives were at risk. Our eyes were wide open, but the darn thing was too sneaky. We didn’t notice the thing was inside until we heard a teenage girl’s terrified screams.

Sam and I ran inside. A trail of blood dragged through the neatly furnished living room and up the stairs.

“Dang it!” I said.

I hoped we could still catch ourselves a wendigo and save someone. I ran upstairs, following the trail of blood. I ended up in a kid’s room, or rather, two kids’ room. Sam pushed past me and into the room.

“Only four. One’s still here somewhere. The thirteen year old from what I can tell,” Sam said after looking at the bodies.

“Well, let’s find her!” I said.

Sam peeked under the bed. I headed for the closet.

“No one here,” I said.

“Same here,” Sam said over his shoulder.

“I think the bathroom door was closed,” I said hopefully.

I walked across the hall and stopped at the door. I heard whimpering.

“Sam!” I nodded toward the door.

I turned the knob. Locked. I raised my gun.

"Sweetheart, I’m gonna shoot out the lock and come in. I need you to stay low. I’m here to help. Are you injured?” I yelled.

“I’m fine!” a small voice said back.

I shot the lock and the door swung open. I moved slowly toward the shower. I pulled the curtain back and a teenage girl jumped up, wielding a shampoo bottle.

"Stay back! Leave me alone!" The girl was trying to keep from crying. Her hands and shirt were soaked with blood, probably her family’s.

“Hey, it’s okay, kiddo. I’m the good guy. My name’s Dean. My brother Sam’s outside the door. Can you tell me our name?” I asked.

“I— I don’t trust you. For all I know, you could’ve killed my family!” the girl said.

“We know what killed your family. We were here to stop it. You can trust me. What’s your name, kid?” I asked gently.

“My name’s Annabelle. I— I saw them die.” Annabelle lowered her bottle of shampoo. Her lower lip quivered. Annabelle winced when her arm hit her side.

“You’re hurt. Come here; let me help you.” I offered my hand.

“It’s nothing, really.” Annabelle took my hand and stepped out of the tub. It was then that I realized how pale she was.

"That’s not your family’s blood is it? That’s your blood." I said with sudden realization.

Annabelle stumbled out of the bathtub and hugged me. She sobbed into my shirt.

"Shh, it’s alright, sweetheart. Let’s go see how bed it is." I stroked the young girl’s hair for a while before leading her to her room. "Sammy, go get the medical kit for me. I’ll check it out while you’re gone."

Sam disappeared from the doorway and I started working with Annabelle.

"If you lay down, I can see how bad it is." I said gently.

"Yeah, no problem." Annabelle was trying to act brave. She laid out flat on her bed and took a shaky breath as I pulled her shirt back.

I winced when I saw the damage. Three long, deep slashes ran down Annabelle’s side toward he back. Typical of a wendigo. Poor kid had been marked, and this one would hurt for a long time.

“How bad is it?” Annabelle asked. She lifted herself onto her elbows so she could see my face.

“You’ll survive,” I said slowly.

“So, it’s bad?” Annabelle’s eyes tugged at my soul, willing me to tell her the truth.

“Yeah, it’s pretty bad. My brother and I are gonna take care of you, though. You’ll be fine, I promise,” I said.

“Have you two done this before?” Annabelle asked.

“Plenty of times. You can trust us,” I said as Sammy walked in. "I’m right here if you need something else to focus on,” I said.

Annabelle gave me the best brave smile she could muster and Sam began working.


	2. Sam

The amount of blood on Annabelle’s shirt worried me. I wasn’t sure if she would pull through, but Dean was determined to save someone today and I was willing to try as long as Annabelle was still alive.

I cleaned out the wound as gently as possible, but Annabelle was still out before I was done.

“Dean, monitor her heart rate,” I said before I started with the stitches.

“What? Why?” Dean asked, surprised with my request.

“She’s lost a lot of blood, Dean. I want to make sure we don’t lose her,” I said.

“Okay, if you really think it might save her life, I’ll do it, Sammy.” Dean placed his fingers over Annabelle’s vein and looked back up at me. “Go on,” Dean said.  
I was almost finished stitching up the first wound when Dean started panicking.

“Her heart rate’s slowing down! What do I do, Sam?!” Dean said frantically.

“I don’t know!” I said, equally frantic.

Dean started praying.

“Cas! We need you down here! A kid’s life is at stake! Cas! Please!” Dean yelled.

I heard the tell-tale flapping of wings and turned to see Castiel.

“Well?! Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna fix her?!” Dean said.

Castiel appeared on the opposite side of the bed as Dean and I. He put his index and middle finger to Annabelle’s forehead. It took a minute, but the wounds disappeared and the color returned to her face.

“Let her rest.” Cas disappeared.

“Is she still alive?” I asked.

Dean felt Annabelle’s pulse again.

“She’s good.” Dean sat back in his chair and took a deep breath.

“Alright. She’s gonna want an explanation when she wakes up. I’ll go take care of the bodies.” I left Dean with Annabelle and returned to her siblings’ room down the hall.


	3. Annabelle

I woke thinking I was dead. I sat up and realized I was a little sore where the wendigo had marked me. The next thing I realized was the man sitting in a chair next to me. I used some choice words my mom would’ve grounded me for and punched the man, Dean, as hard as I could.

“Ow! What was that for?!” Dean rubbed his cheek.

“For bringing me back.” I flopped back on my bed. “I could’ve been with my family,” I moaned.

“Sorry, kid, but you’re not dying, not on my watch,” Dean said.

“Shut up and let me think for a minute,” I said.

“Well, someone’s a little ungrateful,” Dean muttered.

“Hand me my phone and my earbuds. They’re on my dresser,” I said.

Dean did as he was told. I plugged in my earbuds and put some music on so I could think clearly. I hummed along to “Fire of Unknown Origin” while I figured out what I needed to do. I came to a conclusion as the song ended and started packing. I put my music on as loud as possible and tried to tune the world out.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Dean asked.

“You’re a hunter, right? You were after the, uh . . . wendigo that killed my family? Well, I’m coming with you,” I said.

“Annabelle, hunting is dangerous. There’s a chance you’ll die on any given case. You will get hurt, almost on a weekly basis, and once you’re in, there’s no getting out. If you still want to hunt, I won’t stop you. I’ll train you,” Dean said.

“I’ll do it,” I said solemnly. “What do I need to pack?”

“Few shirts, pants, socks, some good shoes, and, uh . . .” Dean seemed uncomfortable asking me to pack bras and underwear.

“These?” I asked while picking up one of each. I laughed as I tossed them at Dean and he swatted them away. “What am I doing? My family just died. How am I laughing?” I muttered when I realized what I was doing. I picked up the clothes I’d just thrown at Dean and stuffed them in my bag.

“Annabelle, sit down here for a moment.” Dean patted the bed in front of him.

“Yeah?” I sat on the edge of the bed in front of Dean.

“It’s good to laugh. Don’t worry about what you saw earlier. Try to be a teenage girl.” Dean’s voice was flooded with sympathy I didn’t want.

“I don’t want your sympathy. I want you to treat me like we’ve hunted together before and I don’t EVER want you to bring up today unless it’s needed to find the wendigo. Got it?” I kept my voice tight and fought back tears.

“Yeah. Sorry.” Dean quieted down, and I continued packing.

I moved to the bathroom and packed my toothbrush, toothpaste, brush, shampoo, conditioner, soap, and lotion.

“I’m sorry I went off on you,” I apologized to Dean as I reentered my room. My voice was ragged and I was near tears.

“No, I understand. You just lost everything, and you don’t want to talk about it. I’ve been in that boat.” Dean’s voice was ragged too, but he was working hard to hide it.

“I’ll share if you do.” I sat next to Dean on my bed. Finding no response, I started my story. "I was working on homework and I heard my brother and sister scream. I wasn’t worried, they were always playing and screaming, but when I heard my parents scream, I got scared. I heard their bodies being dragged up the stairs and I hid under my bed. I waited a while and I didn’t hear anything, so I left my room and went to my siblings’ room. I— I saw their bodies.” I started crying. “I felt something grab me and I ran, but that tore my skin more. I locked myself in the bathroom and then you guys came. I had time to change my shirt so you wouldn’t see that I was injured. You know the rest.” I wiped tears from my eyes.

“My mom died when my brother and I were really young. Our dad died seven years ago. That same year, Sammy died in my arms. I brought him back and I died fighting next to him the next year. An angel brought me back and we had a pretty good two years in terms of Sam and I not dying. Then Sam died putting the devil back in his cage. I could go on . . .” Dean trailed off.

“I feel like a complete idiot.” I wrapped an arm around Dean’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him.

“What can I say? It’s part of the job,” Dean said.

“Have you tried to walk away from the job?” I asked.

“When Sam died putting the devil away, I went back to an old girlfriend and her son for a year. The job called me back when Sam showed up on a case in our neighborhood. Lisa and I tried to keep it together, but the job put Lisa and her son, Ben, in danger. I had Cas remove their memory of me,” Dean said regretfully.

“I’m sorry. If you let me come with you, I won’t leave you and Sam,” I said confidently. “Where is Sam?”

“He’s taking care of the bodies,” Dean said, trying to be gentle but not sympathetic.

“Can—?” I stopped to steady my breathing. “Can we go watch?”

“You sure?” Dean asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Let’s go see if he has them prepped yet.” Dean led me to my backyard, which was basically the edge of the woods.

Sam was wrapping my family’s bodies in white sheets. I silently joined Sam in finishing wrapping my sister and mom.

I watched Sam and Dean build four matching pyres and helped them hoist the bodies onto the pyres.

“Do you want to do the honors?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, sure,” I said while taking the lighter from Dean.

I lit each pyre then stood solemnly next to my new family and watched the pyres burn.


	4. Dean

I felt bad for the kid. Annabelle’d been through a lot that day, but she didn’t want any sympathy. I could understand that. After a tragedy, the last thing I wanted was people asking if I was okay or how I was doing. I always thought it was really obvious.

Annabelle was smart, not trying to hunt on her own, but I didn’t want to be the one to tell Sam we were bringing her with us. Standing next to Annabelle and Sam, it felt like we’d been there before. Annabelle had potential, and I was excited to work with her.

Finally, the time came when the fire died down and it was time to head out.

“Where do we need to bring you, Annabelle?” Sam asked.

“I’m coming with you and Dean.” Annabelle shouldered her bag and looked up at Sam.

“Being a—” Sam started to give Annabelle the becoming-a-hunter speech.

“Dean already gave me the speech. I understand the risks and I want to work with you,” Annabelle said.

“Dean, what’d you tell her?” Sam asked.

“Sam, she was smart. She wanted to train with us instead of going out and hunting the wendigo down herself. I told her if she really wanted to work the job, I’d train her. I think she’s got potential. Come on, Sam, please,” I said. I gave Sam my best puppy dog eyes and Annabelle caught on. She followed my lead. I could see Sam start to melt.

“Alright. We should hit the road. If we start driving now, we can get to the safe house before midnight,” Sam said.

“Thank you!” Annabelle tackled Sam then me with hugs.

Annabelle fan-girled a bit when she saw the Impala.

“No way! This is the exact car I wanted! Black ‘67 Chevy Impala! She’s beautiful!” Annabelle said while tracing the edge of Baby with her hand and taking in every inch of my car.  
“She’s a good one, that’s for sure.” I smiled and joined the awe-struck teenager staring at Baby. “Baby’s been all over the country with Sam and I.”

“She looks great. How long’ve you had her?” Annabelle looked up at me, her eyes wide with amazement.

“Well, she used to be my dad’s car. Sammy and I grew up in the back seat. Had to build her from the ground up a few times,” I said proudly.

“You’ll have to show me.” Annabelle looked like she had plenty more questions that I could spend hours answering.

“We can all stare at the Impala together at the safe house. Come on, you two. Long drive ahead of us,” Sam said.

“Sam, let’s stop and get her a nice notebook to start her hunter’s journal in,” I said.

“Already got it.” Annabelle pulled out a book that read "Journal" down the side. “You’ll just have to show me how to make it a hunter’s journal,” she said as she slid into the back seat.

“I’ve got an example you can read through while we’re on the road,” I said as I closed Baby’s door.

“I like this kid,” Sam said under his breath.

“She’s got good taste in music, too.” I slid behind the wheel and waited for Sam to get into the car before pulling away from Annabelle’s old home and toward the safe house. I had big hopes for Annabelle.


	5. Sam

Annabelle was a fast reader. Within an hour, she’d taken in all of Dad’s journal. She and Dean sang along to Bon Jovi for a while then Annabelle pulled out a book and started reading. I was starting to warm up to her. Annabelle had packed a small collection of books and a Nook packed with her own writing and books. She planned on being an author, good choice if you ask me.

I agree with Dean, Annabelle’s got potential, She’s a fighter, she’s smart, and she’s patient. On the six hour drive, there was no complaints about how long the drive was that you would get from a regular kid.

“What book are you reading?” I asked.

“It’s called _Bones to Ashes_. It’s a murder-mystery,” Annabelle answered without looking up.

“When’d you start reading it?” I asked, eying the few remaining pages of the thick book.

“About a week ago,” Annabelle said.

“That’s pretty fast for someone your age,” I said.

“I could’ve been done a while ago,” Annabelle said.

“Oh?” I asked, curious to what Annabelle meant.

“Yeah. I go through these books really fast. Usually takes me a few days. I’m an advanced student.” Annabelle put down the book.

“How advanced?” I asked.

“I took a high school reading class, ninth grade math class, eleventh grade writing class—” Annabelle was nowhere near finished when Dean interrupted.

“Alright, what do you two nerds say we get some dinner?” Dean asked as he pulled into a Taco Bell parking lot.

“Sounds good,” Annabelle said.

After dinner, Annabelle fell asleep stretched out in the back seat of the Impala. She looked peaceful and care-free, the opposite of when she was awake.

When we arrived at the safe house, I carried Annabelle in and tucked her in in one of the beds. Dean slept on the couch and I slept in the room across from Annabelle’s.


	6. Annabelle

I had no idea where I was when I woke up. I panicked until I heard Dean and Sam’s voices outside of the room I was in.

Memories of yesterday flooded back; my family’s bodies, the burning pyres, and the men that had saved me. I got out of bed and groggily found my way to the small kitchen.

“Morning! We’ve got a day of training ahead of us. You ready, kiddo?” Dean said.

“Do I have time to shower before we start?” I asked.

“Ten minutes to breakfast,” Sam said.

“Save mine. I’ll be half an hour,” I said.

“Okay, bathroom’s the door to the right of yours.” Dean handed me my bag and pointed toward the corridor I’d just come through.

“Thanks.” I took a quick shower and cut my time in the bathroom in half.

Dean and Sam were scarfing down eggs when I came out. There was a plate of eggs and a cup of coffee on the counter for me. I left the coffee, ate the eggs, and washed it down with a glass of orange juice.

“Ready to start?” Sam asked.

“Let’s get going,” I said.

“We’re gonna start with a run to the range. It’s a quarter mile from here. You get a ten second head start then Sam and I can come after you. You get this.” Dean put a gun on the table and slid it in my direction. “It’s loaded with blanks. You shoot at us, we play dead. We shoot at you, you keep running, but you have to redo the course. We’ll see how much time we have after that,” Dean said.

“Sounds like a plan,” I said. I took the gun and held it awkwardly. It was huge, meant for a grown man’s hand.

“Let’s get you a smaller gun.” Sam took the gun from my hand and gave it back to Dean.

I followed Sam out to the Impala and watched as he opened the trunk, revealing an arsenal. Sam dug out a hand gun that looked more suited for a thirteen year old girl. He handed it to me and I positioned it in my hand. It felt better than the one Dean had given me.

“Looks good. Here.” Sam handed me a holster.

“Thanks.” I put the holster on and holstered the gun.

Dean came up behind me and started counting down. I started running toward a small structure that I assumed was the range.


	7. Dean

Annabelle was fast. She was fifty feet away from Sam and I by the time I’d finished counting. Sam caught up with her pretty fast and she shot a blank at him.

I took that as my queue to start running. Annabelle disarmed me, but not without losing her own gun. Good time to test her hand to hand combat skills.

I threw a punch and Annabelle caught my hand. She twisted my arm behind my back, threw me on the ground, found her gun, and fired a blank. I heard Annabelle’s footsteps going the opposite direction. I didn’t move until Sam tapped my back with his shoe.

“Hey, man, get up. Annabelle’s gonna be waiting for us,” Sam said.

“Gimme a minute,” I groaned as I picked myself up off of the ground.

“Dude, you just got beat up by a thirteen year old girl.” Sam laughed.

“Shut up.” I stretched out my shoulder and started jogging to the range.

“You were going easy on her, right?” Sam said, jogging steadily beside me.

“I didn’t know she could fight,” I mumbled.

“You mean she actually—? You didn’t let her—?" Sam burst out laughing.

“Shut it, Sammy. She would’ve surprised you, too,” I said.

Sam made fun of me all the way to the range.

“Where’ve you been?” Annabelle asked when we got to where she was.

“Eating sand,” I muttered, rubbing my shoulder.

“Did I hurt you? Here, let me help.” Annabelle made me sit and massaged my shoulder with a firm but gentle hand.

“Uh, thanks,” I said, ducking out of Annabelle’s grip.

“Put some ice on it for a while tonight before you go to bed. You won’t be as sore tomorrow,” Annabelle said.

“I’m fine. You did good. Where’d you learn hand to hand like that?” I said.

“I had a little brother who loved to beat me up. You learn a lot when your face is at stake.” A bitter-sweet smile tugged at the corners of Annabelle’s mouth.

“You learned that just to avoid your brother?” Sam asked.

“You do what you have to, right?” Annabelle shrugged.

“I like this kid,” I decided.  
“Can we start working?” Annabelle asked.

“Yeah, let’s see how much of a sharp shooter you are. Let me see your gun.” Sam put out his hand and Annabelle gave him her gun.

Sam traded the blanks for real bullets and gave the gun back to Annabelle. I took over. I positioned Annabelle and pointed out her target.

“That target’s a werewolf. Where are you gonna shoot it?” I tested.  
“Through the heart?” Annabelle guessed and took the shot. It was dead on.

“Nice job. Now your target’s a shifter. Where’s your shot?” I asked.

“Head or chest?” Annabelle took a shot at each, two bull’s eyes.

“That’s right. Now you’ve got a wendigo,” I said.

Annabelle squirmed a bit at the name.

“You don’t shoot a wendigo. You burn it,” Annabelle said with one hundred percent confidence.

“Did you look into that?” I asked.

“I woke up in the middle of the night. Hacked your wifi. I did some research on my Nook,” Annabelle said.

“So you can research, good. Vampire,” I said.

“Head shot.” Annabelle took the shot.

I named as many monsters as I could think of and Annabelle did pretty good. I had to tell her about some of the lesser known monsters, but the well known, typical horror story monsters were no problem for Annabelle.

“Good job. What’re we doing next, Sam?” I said.

“I didn’t plan anything else. I’ll have a better course ready tomorrow,” Sam said.

“Bet I can beat you back to the house!” Annabelle started running.

Sam chased after her and I after him. We fought for the lead, laughing and playfully shoving each other until we reached the safe house. Cas was inside and he looked like something was bothering him. The smile melted from my face and I glanced at Sam.

“Who’s this?” Annabelle looked ready to fight.

“A friend. He’s okay. I’ll, um, I’ll take him for a ride and we’ll talk. Come on, Cas,” I said.

“I need to speak with Sam also.” Cas’s voice wasn’t as gruff as it usually was.

“Sam is going to keep an eye on Annabelle. You can pop in later and talk to Sam. Come on.” I held the door wide open, allowing Cas to slip past me. "We’ll be right back."

Sam and I had one of our silent conversations before I joined Cas in the Impala.

“What’s going on, Cas?” I asked while I started the car.

“I wanted to talk to you about Purgatory and the flashbacks and nightmares you’ve been having. They are getting intense,” Cas said.

Dang, he knew. Last night, I’d woken up from another nightmare about Purgatory sobbing. I’d stumbled out of bed to the mini fridge I kept in my room, pulled out a bottle of whiskey, and drunken myself to sleep. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t talk about Purgatory. I didn’t want Annabelle to see me when the flashbacks got bad. I was afraid I’d hurt her. I didn’t want Sam to worry about that happening.

“Cas, not now. I’m doing fine, thanks.” I took my key out of the ignition and got out of the car.

“Dean, it would do you good to talk about it,” Cas said.

“I don’t want to think about it. Annabelle doesn’t need to see what happens when the flashbacks get bad,” I said quietly.

“Talk to her about it.” Cas was practically begging me to let it out to someone.

“I’ll think about it. Now if we’re done here . . .” I walked toward the door of the safe house.

“Try it, Dean. Keep Sam in the room, just in case, but try it.” Cas disappeared.

I would try to tell Annabelle part of the story tonight before she went to sleep. There would be no weapons and Sam would definitely stay in the room. I made my decision as I opened the door.


	8. Sam

“What was that about?” Annabelle and I asked in unison as Dean came inside.

“Sam, a word?” Dean nodded toward the kitchen, not offering an answer for Annabelle.

I followed him out of hearing range and waited as Dean gathered his thoughts.

“I’m gonna try to tell Annabelle about Purgatory before she goes to sleep every night. I want you in the room in case I, you know…” Dean said.

“Have a, uh,” I cleared my throat, “violent flashback?”

“Yeah. I don’t wanna hurt her.” Dean didn’t like the idea of talking about Purgatory to anyone. I thought he was brave to try to tell the story that was still so fresh in his mind.

“No problem. It’s good to know you wanna talk about it,” I said.

“If no one thought it would help, I wouldn’t. I’m doing this for you and Cas.” Dean wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“I know. Thanks for that. I don’t think you’ll regret it,” I said.

“I hope not.” Dean said under his breath. He walked away and I stayed back for a minute.

I didn’t think Dean was thinking straight. I heard his bedroom door close and I know he was drinking again. I leaned against the wall and wondered if there was any other way I could help Dean.

“Is everything okay?” Annabelle’s voice surprised me.

“Oh, yeah. What do you say we go get some lunch?” I tried to change the subject.

“It’s eleven. Too early to eat. What’s going on?” Annabelle pushed.

“Dean’s just . . . readjusting,” I said.

“To what?” Annabelle pushed.

“He just got back to Earth a few weeks ago.” I said.

“From?” Annabelle’s eyes were wide with curiosity.

“I can’t give that away,” I said.

“Okay. Anything I can do to help?” Annabelle asked.

“No. No one can to anything.” I was disappointed in my answer. There was always something someone could do, but this time, I had no idea what to do.

“Can I talk to him?” Annabelle asked.

“Let’s just give him some space. Why don’t you take my laptop and contact your friends? Tell them you’re okay. Police think you’re in the witness protection program,” I said.

“Okay. Sam, thanks for everything you and Dean have done for me.” Annabelle took the computer and headed to her room.

I ran my hand through my hair. Dean coming back from Purgatory was about equivalent to when he came back from Hell; nightmares, flashbacks, and no desire to talk about it. I still didn’t know the Hell story, but I knew it was bad. I’d lived one of my own.

This was different. Dean woke up crying from nightmares. The flashbacks blurred with reality. He’d tried to attack me with his machete once when it got really bad. I didn’t know what else to do besides get him to talk about it, but there was a chance that would make it worse. That was a risk I was willing to take.

I felt bad for Annabelle. She’d been caught in the cross fire and she had no idea what was going on. I wished I could tell her without stressing her even more.

I wanted to help both of them. Each was in a lot of pain and there was nothing I could do to help.

I heard quiet crying from one of the rooms. I listened through Dean’s door, not him. I knocked lightly on Annabelle’s door.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah. Come on in, Sam.” Annabelle sniffled.

“What’s going on?” I asked as I opened the door.

“Wendigo got one of my friends.” Annabelle wiped tears from her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” I sat next to Annabelle.

“Can we go hunt it down, please?” Annabelle looked up at me, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

“I’d love to take you right now and help you find it—” I began.

“Then why don’t you?” Annabelle begged.

“We need to train a little more and next time it strikes, I swear I’ll help you find it,” I said.

“Thank you, Sam.” Annabelle wrapped her arms around me and cried into my shirt.

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay,” I whispered into the young girl’s hair.

“How do you know?” Annabelle asked between sobs.

“Because I’ve lived it and I promise you that the pain dulls. Someone will always be there to pick you up when you fall and from now on that person will be me,” I said protectively.

After my response, Annabelle relaxed a little. I let her cry on my shoulder until she fell asleep. I covered her up and went into the kitchen. I grabbed some ice for Dean’s shoulder and went into his room. Dean was pretty drunk.

“Hey. I thought you might want some ice for your shoulder.” I said as I opened the door.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about? Dogs.” Dean put his bottle of whiskey down and looked at me.

“Come here, brother.” I took the bottle away and put the ice on Dean’s shoulder. He hissed a little at the freezing ice pack.

“Dogs scare the crap outta me. You know why?” Dean said.

“Why?” I smiled at the stupidity of the question.

“I got killed by a hell-hound once. Those things’ll rip your face off.” Dean said.  
“Really?” I asked sarcastically.

“Yeah. You know who I really loved? Who I wish I could’ve had a life with?” Dean’s question caught me by surprise.

“No, who?” I asked.

“I like traveling with you and all, but I wouldn’t mind settling down with Lisa and Ben. I liked being with them. It felt right. Like- like you and Jess, you know?” Dean said.

“Yeah, I do.” I heard Annabelle’s door open across the hall and close quietly. “Hey, listen, you get some rest. I’ll be back to check on you soon.”

I left Dean’s room and heard the front door close. I ran out to catch Annabelle.

“Hey! What’re you doing?” I said as I caught up with Annabelle.

“I was gonna go down to the range. I saw a punching bag. I was gonna blow off some steam,” Annabelle said.

“Come inside. I’ll wrap your hands and drive you down to the range,” I said.

Annabelle followed me inside and allowed me to wrap her hands and drive her down to the range.


	9. Annabelle

Sam drove back to the house after telling me to call him when I was done and leaving his cell phone number for me. I wanted to feel pain, physical pain, to take my mind off of the emotional pain. I unwrapped my hands and started throwing punches as hard as I could at the punching bag. 

I didn’t notice the pain until I stopped to take a breath. I ignored it and kept going. I was there for at least an hour before Dean ran up behind me and pulled me away from the bag. It was stained with blood where my punches had been concentrated.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” Dean gently grabbed my wrists and looked at my raw, bloody hands.

“Taking my mind off of . . . stuff,” I said.

“With pain?” Dean asked.

“That’s the idea,” I said.

“Come on, let’s get you some ice.” Dean led me to the Impala and opened the door for me.

“I’m fine.” I tried to close the door, but as soon as my hand touched it, I pulled back, hissing at the pain.

“Don’t touch anything. You’ll make it worse,” Dean said before closing the door for me.

Dean walked around the front of the Impala, got in, and started the car.

“You wanna talk about it?” Dean asked as he pulled away.

“You first. Where did you just come back from a few weeks ago?” I said.

“I’ll tell you later. Now, what’s going on with you, huh? You need your hands!” Dean said.

“The wendigo got one of my friends. Happy?” I teared up again, but I held the tears back.

“That must be why Sam was so worried about you. You had him worried out of his mind!” Dean was trying to sound stern, but I could tell he was worried too.

“Sorry. How bad do you think it is?” I asked, looking at my hands. They were starting to swell.

“Hard to tell with the blood. Judging by how long you were out, you’ve probably got a few cracked knuckles and broken fingers. With your strength, you might’ve broken your hand. If that’s the case, we’ll call Cas, but if you just broke a few fingers, we can manage,” Dean finished as we pulled up to the house.

He opened the car door for me then went to the front door. As soon as it was open, I could hear Sam start asking questions.

“Is she okay? Did you find her?” Sam asked.

Dean held the door wide open and I stepped inside, a little ashamed of what I’d decided to do.

“What happened?” Sam grabbed my wrists lightly and looked over my hands.

“I used the punching bag without my hands wrapped,” I said.

“But I wrapped your hands!” Sam led me to the kitchen and had me sit at the table.

“And I unwrapped them,” I said.

“Let’s not worry about the details. Just get her some ice and get me a washcloth to clean her hands off,” Dean said.

“Here.” Sam handed Dean a wet washcloth and gently laid my hands on a couple of ice packs.

I hissed as the ice made contact with my skin, but I relaxed a little when the ice started to numb the pain. Dean started dabbing away blood from my fingers and knuckles. I winced each time the fabric touched my hands. Sam left the room for a minute and returned with a small metallic box filled with medical supplies. Sam poured some type of liquid over my hands and Dean set to work guessing where a fracture could be.

“I think you’ve successfully broken all of your fingers and there’s a stress fracture in your left wrist,” Dean said.

“How can you tell?” I asked.

“Not my first rodeo, kid. I’m gonna go call Cas. Sam, don’t let her move.” Dean’s would-be stern tone was flooded with worry and sympathy.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone,” Sam said once Dean was outside.

“Don’t say that. You had to make sure Dean was okay. I should’ve thought it through,” I said.

“Are all teenage girls this understanding?” Sam smiled.

“No. I choose to be helpful to people, but I think most women are like this,” I joked.

“Yeah. They tend to like it when you save their lives,” Sam said.

“Yeah, I appreciate it. That’s why I’m here,” I said. Sam stared at me skeptically for a minute. “Okay! That’s part of the reason I’m here. The other part is full on revenge.”

“It’s always revenge for hunters. Either that or they’re born into it,” Sam said.

“Yeah? Which was it for you?” I asked.

“A little bit of both. My mom was killed when I was six months old. My dad was kinda obsessed with finding the thing. Funny, he died working with it to save Dean’s life.” A bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of Sam’s mouth. That alone told me not to push for details.

“Sounds at least semi-functional. The last time I saw my family alive, we were arguing. I wasn’t speaking to any of them. If I could go back and change one thing, my mom’s dying words wouldn’t have been ‘I’m sorry. I was wrong about your friends.’ I was holding her hand when she died. She looked so… sad, like she didn’t want to leave me alone,” I said.

“The last conversation I had with my dad was an argument. We can’t change anything. We can just get better,” Sam said.

“That’s good advice,” I said as Dean came back inside with the trench-coated man from earlier.

“Hello, Annabelle. We did not meet properly. I am Castiel.” The man stuck out his hand. I stared at it helplessly, waiting for Sam and Dean to tell him I couldn’t shake his hand.

“Cas, look at her hands. They need to be healed so we can keep training her,” Dean said.

“I see,” the man Dean called Cas said.

“I’m sorry, but you’re just a man. How exactly are you supposed to heal me?” I said.

“Let me re-introduce myself. I am Castiel, angel of the Lord,” Cas said.

I’d given up on the idea of angels walking the earth years ago. I looked from Sam to Dean, waiting for someone to burst out laughing and say “Got you!”, but they looked dead serious.  
“You all are serious?” I asked.

“Yes, those are their serious faces,” Castiel said. He reached out and touched my forehead.

The swelling and rawness in my hands disappeared. I slowly moved my fingers and rolled my wrist; no pain.

“You must be the one that saved me too?” I guessed.

“Yes, that is correct,” Cas said.

“Do you call him whenever someone’s in trouble?” I asked Sam and Dean.

“No, you were different,” Sam said.

“Why?” I asked.

“You were the only person alive in that house. We had to save you,” Dean said.

“Well, thank you, all of you, for that. I’m gonna go take a cool shower and then I’m gonna take a nap.” I left the kitchen, grabbed my bags, and started taking a nice cold shower.


	10. Dean

“She has lost much in the past few weeks,” Castiel said after Annabelle had left the room.

“Really, Cas? I never would have guessed that someone who’s lost her family and one of her friends has lost a lot,” I said sarcastically.

“It goes farther than that,” Cas said.

“What do you mean?” Sam asked.

“I talked with her family on their way to heaven. They wanted to know if Annabelle was okay. Her mother said Annabelle was having a hard time with he deaths of her uncle’s family in a recent plane crash. Her father mentioned that Annabelle’s grandmother passed earlier this week. Annabelle’s siblings wanted me to keep them in contact,” Cas explained.

“Wow. Kid’s got a lot on her shoulders. Didn’t we investigate a plane crash last week, Sam? It was a demon, right?” I said.

“Yeah. Was that the same plane crash?” Sam asked.

“I believe so. They were flying from Arizona to Colorado to visit,” Cas said.

"Dang. No one mention this to her. I’ll find a good time to talk to her,” I said.

"No need. I can hear you,” Annabelle yelled over the shower. Her voice was ragged.

“Oh, crap. Annabelle, I’m sorry,” I said.

There was a moment where everything was silent. The only sound was the running water.

“Let’s just not talk about my family anymore, ever, okay?” Annabelle was trying hard to hold herself together. I could tell by how tight her voice was.

“No problem,” I said.

“Do you have anything else for us, Cas?” Sam lowered his voice.

“Dean wants to talk with Annabelle about Purgatory.” Cas kept his voice nearly at a whisper.

“We’ve discussed it. I’m staying with him,” Sam said.

“You understand the plan, correct?” Cas asked.

“It’s a simple plan, Cas. We all understand it. Let’s just get it over with,” I said. “Annabelle, after you’re done in there, can we talk?” I yelled.

“What, are you gonna tell me that some old person’s spirit pushed my grandma down the stair and broke her neck?” Annabelle came out of the bathroom drying her hair with a towel and trying to hide the tears in her eyes.

“I’m sorry. You weren’t supposed to—” I tried to say.

“I know. I wasn’t supposed to hear that, but I did. Cas, you tell my parents some great people saved my life. Tell them not to miss me,” Annabelle said.

“I want to tell you where I came back from. It’s a long story and no one’s heard it before,” I said.

“Dean, let’s get the weapons out of the room first,” Sam said.

I handed Sam the gun and machete that I always kept at my side.

“Why don’t you want any weapons in here?” Annabelle asked nervously.

“I’ve had a few violent flashbacks. We’re just being safe. Come sit down,” I said as reassuringly as possible.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” Annabelle pulled up a chair and sat in front of me. Her eyes were just as understanding and sensitive as Sam’s; the only difference was they were a startling gray.

“No, I need to tell someone about it,” I said as Sammy came back into the room. Cas and Sam stood protectively behind me, ready for whatever happened.

“All right. Go ahead,” Annabelle said.

“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “Do you remember that politician Dick Roman?” I asked.

“Yeah. It was kinda a big deal when he, you know, exploded,” Annabelle said.

“Sam, Cas, and I, we know better than anyone else. We were there. Guy was a leviathan. Cas and I stood too close to Dick when he exploded. Gave us a free pass to Purgatory. I remember we were surrounded by vampires almost immediately. We had to fight our way out, but we didn’t have any weapons. I told Cas to stay back and I fought for one of their weapons. Once I got one, I started hacking until all of the vamps were dead. Cas collected their weapons. I was lucky they’d just hit me with the hilts of their machetes.” Trees started crowding my vision. I shrugged it off and kept going. “My adrenaline rush started to wear off. I felt pain in my rib cage and I couldn’t move.” The scene of Purgatory I had been describing took over and I was in another flashback.


	11. Sam

Dean clutched his stomach and hunched over in pain.

“Dean? Dean, what’s wrong? Is he okay?” Annabelle asked. She had her hand on Dean’s shoulder, trying to get him to look up.

“He’s having another flashback. Go to your room,” I said firmly. I watched Dean carefully to make sure he wouldn’t hurt Annabelle in his dream-like state.

“No. I’m going to help,” Annabelle said.

“Annabelle, I don’t want him to accidentally hurt you. Please, go to your room,” I said.

“No. I’m staying.” Annabelle’s voice was firm and steady.

“Cas, I don’t suppose you can use your mojo down here,” Dean said through clenched teeth.

“Fine, you can stay,” I said.

“What do we do?” Annabelle still had her hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“Tell me you can at least set broken ribs,” Dean muttered.

“We have to give him some space. Let it pass, hope it doesn’t get violent,” I said, wishing I knew how to snap Dean out of whatever nightmarish world he thought he was in.

“And if it does?” Annabelle moved to my side as Dean laid himself carefully out on the floor, cringing each time he moved.

“Cas and I’ll handle it,” I said.

“Okay,” Annabelle said. She was clearly trying to figure out how to pull Dean out of his flashback.

Dean let out a pained scream and I assumed in his mind, Cas had just set a broken rib. We sat through a few more pained screams then watched as Dean seemed to be caught off guard by someone. He stood, though it looked like it hurt.

“Hey, we don’t have to fight. We can work this out. Just let go of the angel.” Dean put his hands up in a surrendering signal.

“What’s going on, Cas?” I asked.

“A vampire caught us off guard and took me hostage,” Cas said.

“If you give him to me, I’ll let you go,” Dean said.

“I should have tried to fight,” Cas said regretfully.

“I’m sure he had a knife at your throat. Fighting would’ve been stupid,” Annabelle said.

“Come on. You know I’ll hunt you down eventually. Hand over the angel and I’ll let you go this time,” Dean said.

“Was the vamp using you for leverage?” Annabelle asked quietly.

“Yes. Dean was trying very hard to get me back from it,” Cas said.

“When I make a deal, I keep my word. You just have to hold up your half and I’ll hold up mine,” Dean said.


	12. Annabelle

“Did he get you back?” I asked.

Castiel was silent so I kept watching. Dean’s eyes filled with tears.

“No! No! No!” Dean yelled.

Dean fell to his knees and started crying. That was enough of an answer for me; the vamp had taken Cas. I took Dean’s breakdown as a chance to snap him out of his flashback.

I sat on my knees in front of Dean and let go of my emotions. I wrapped Dean in a comforting hug and cried with him.

“Dean, it’s okay. I’m here for you. Everything’s alright,” I said soothingly.

I felt Dean’s muscles loosen up a little, but he didn’t move.

“That’s right. It’s all good,” I cooed.

One of Dean’s arms wrapped around me. He was acknowledging my presence but still not fully with me.

“Good. Yeah, let it go. It’s over. Let it go,” I whispered.

Dean’s muscles relaxed completely. His other arm wrapped around me and he cried into my hair.

“Shh. It’s okay. It’s okay,” I said quietly.

Dean tightened his grip on me as if he was afraid I’d disappear.

“I’m here, Dean. I’m not leaving. That’s a promise. I’m right here,” I said soothingly.

Dean’s chest heaved a few times and his sobs slowed a little. I controlled my sobs to match is. Dean’s warm embrace was still tight.

“It’s alright. We’re okay. It’s okay,” I whispered.

Dean continued calming himself and I followed his steps.

“You’re okay? You’re good?” My soothing words turned to gentle questions as Dean’s sobs stopped.

I felt Dean nod. He kept his grip on me. I didn’t know how much comfort it was to him, but it was definitely a comfort to me.

“You have a good hug. Reminds me of my dad’s,” I whispered.

“Is that a good thing?” Dean whispered back.

“Yeah. It is. You know, he had to calm me just like this a few times in the past month. I think it made me stronger each time it happened. I’m really happy you tried to tell me the story.” I took a shaky breath. “I can see now that took a lot of courage.”

Dean didn’t answer. He took a few deep breaths and loosened his grip on me a little bit. I closed my eyes and imagined I was in my dad’s warm embrace. I didn’t mind the fact that Dean was practically a stranger. I felt like he was an older brother; someone I’d known all my life.

“You’re the only person who’s been able to pull me back to reality. If you don’t mind, I want to keep telling you what happened. A piece of the story everyday,” Dean whispered.

“I’m here whenever you need to talk. I’ll bring you back to reality if need be,” I answered.

Dean gave me one final squeeze then let go.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Dean asked when he saw the tears in my eyes.

“No. I cried with you. It’s hard to have a friend taken away from you.” I gave Dean a small smile and wiped the tears away.

Dean gazed behind me at Sam and Cas. I followed his gaze and almost laughed at Sam and Cas’s awed looks.

“You boys can talk to us. We don’t bite,” I said.

“That was amazing! How’d you do it?” Sam clapped me on the back as I stood.

“Sometimes you just need a woman’s understanding.” I shrugged.

“No, seriously, how’d you do it?" Sam asked.

“I’ve talked friends off of ledges before. I used what I knew worked,” I said.

“You have a gift,” Cas said.

“It’s nothing, really,” I said.

“No, you have a God-given gift,” Cas said.


	13. Dean

“What do you mean, Cas?” I asked. My first thought when Cas said “God-given gift” was that Annabelle may be some sort of psychic capable of starting the apocalypse, like Sam. One thing was for sure, I wasn’t going to let that happen to her.

“Annabelle has a presence far stronger than that of a normal human.” Cas’s eyes grew a little darker and Annabelle took a few steps back. I put my hands protectively on her shoulders.

“What does that mean?” Sam asked.

“How do I explain this?” Cas said under his breath. “Annabelle has the ability to talk people into doing what she wants them to.”

Annabelle ducked out of my grip and backed behind Sam and me, her eyes wide with fear. I had no idea what to say. Sam, on the other hand, had plenty of questions.

“Can we stop it?” Sam asked.

“It is God’s doing. I cannot reverse it.” Cas stared intently at Annabelle.

“But we can control it, like Azazel controlled my powers, right?” Sam asked.

“There’s a possibility,” Cas said.

“What’s happening?!” Annabelle yelled.

“Settle down,” I said. I tried to mask the fear I had for Annabelle.

“Powers? Mind control? I don’t want to control anyone’s mind!” Annabelle was breathing hard and she wouldn’t meet my eyes.

“I know it’s hard to take in, but you have to stay calm. Cas said we can control it. Take a deep breath.” I forced my voice into a calm tone.

Annabelle drew a long breath in then let it out.

“Feel better?” I asked.

“Not at all. Just tell me how to control it,” Annabelle demanded.

“Cas?” I looked desperately at the angel.

“We must hide her from angels and demons alike. Consuming even a drop of either species’ blood will make her far too powerful for any enemy,” Cas said.

“Great. Two more painful experiences to put under her belt,” I muttered.

“Guess we should start with the tattoo,” Sam said.

“Tattoo?” Annabelle asked.

“Yeah. Anti-possession tattoo. Keeps the demons out.” I pulled my shirt back to reveal my anti-possession tattoo.

“Where are you gonna find someone to give a thirteen year old a tattoo?” Annabelle asked.

“We know a place in town,” Sam said.

“I will give her the angel sigils when you come back,” Cas said.

“I’m gonna go grab my phone and ear buds. Meet you in the car,” Annabelle headed to her room.

“Let’s go get this done.” I grabbed Baby’s keys, went out to the car, and waited for Sam to come out with the wary teenager.

“So how much is this gonna hurt?” Annabelle asked as she and Sam got in the car.

“It’s like getting a bunch of shots. Where do you want to get it?” Sam said as I pulled away from the house.

“I was thinking the inside of my left ankle. It’s easy to hide. What are angel sigils?” Annabelle said.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” I said.

The sigils would be the worst part since they have to be inscribed in your ribs to work properly. It was painful to say the least. Annabelle fell silent until we reached the tattoo parlor.

“Let’s get this over with.” Annabelle plugged her ear buds in and got out of the car. I held the door open for Sam and Annabelle. Jared was the tattoo artist there. Of all the guys I knew at that shop, he was the gentlest. Jared looked skeptically between the three of us.

“You’re not gonna have me mark up the kid, are you?” Jared asked. His eyes darted from Sam to me to Annabelle who stood between us.

“Afraid so. New recruit,” Sam said.

“Annabelle lost her family. Kid wanted to ride with us. You know what she needs,” I said. I tapped Annabelle’s shoulder and she took out one of her ear buds.

“Where do you want it?” Jared asked as he led Annabelle to the chair and had her sit down.

“Here.” Annabelle pulled her left pant leg up a little and pointed to the inside of her ankle.

“Alright. One of you two wanna sit back here with her?” Jared looked up at Sam and me.

“I’ll stay with her. Sam, go do something. Pick up something for dinner and meet us back here in an hour.” I was about to put the Impala’s keys in Sam’s hand. I pulled them back: “Get me   
some pie.” I gave Sam the keys and sat next to Annabelle.

Annabelle paused her music and glanced nervously at me before changing to a playlist labeled “Relaxing Music”. I put my hand in Annabelle’s to make it clear I was there for her. She nodded at Jared to start, took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.

Annabelle’s face contorted in pain and her hand clamped down on mine as soon as the needle made contact with her skin, but she took another deep breath and calmed down. A few minutes in, Annabelle started quietly singing along with her music.

“Every morning, I’m staring shadows in the eye. Oh, good morning, will you just wait until I die?” Annabelle sang under her breath.

Annabelle’s voice was inaudible for a while, but I watched her lip sing part of the song before she started whispering it again. She continued until Jared was finished inking her.

“Okay, little lady, looks like we’re done,” Jared said.

“Thank you, sir,” Annabelle said. The way she said thanks was like it was programmed into her mind to say thanks whenever someone gave her something. As far as I could tell, it came   
with having a mom.

“I’ll call Sam, see where he is.” I took a few steps away from the chair and dialed Sam’s number as he came through the door. “Never mind.” I muttered and hung up.

“Ready to go back? Cas is waiting,” Sam said.

“Yeah, she’s all done,” I said.

Annabelle joined Sam and I in front of the door and gave Sam a slight smile.

“Let’s see it,” Sam said.

“It wasn’t as bad as I expected,” Annabelle showed Sam her fresh anti-possession tattoo.

“Looks nice,” Sam said.

“We should get back and get the angel sigils,” Annabelle said.

Annabelle stared at her new tattoo all the way home, occasionally tilting her head in a new direction to see it from different angles. I grinned when I watched her from the rear view mirror.

Cas wouldn’t let Sam or me be in the room with Annabelle when he gave her the sigils. We sat in the main room of the house and listened to Annabelle’s pained screams.

“I wish we didn’t have to do this to her,” I said, recalling my experience of being branded by Cas.

“I know,” Sam said.

We fell silent and solemnly waited for Cas. When he finally came out, Sam and I instantly started asking questions.

“How is she?” I asked.

“Did it go okay?” Sam asked.

“She is unconscious. She needs rest,” Cas said simply.

Cas disappeared and I plopped back down on the couch.

“He’s great at explaining stuff,” I said sarcastically.

“Yeah. How long do you think she’ll be out?” Sam asked.

“Kid’s had a long day. Maybe all night,” I said.

“What did we pull her into, Dean? She could’ve lived a semi-normal life." Sam said.

“For a while. Eventually they would’ve found her. We saved her, Sam,” I said. I was trying to convince myself I did the right thing by taking her with us more than I was Sam.

“I guess you’re right,” Sam said.


	14. Sam

I fixed dinner for Dean and I. Dean halfheartedly ate a few bites then he moved his food around with his fork for a while.

“Not hungry?” I asked.

“Not really. I’m just gonna hit the sack.” Dean got up and headed to the hallway that lead to Annabelle and my rooms. Guess he wanted the bed tonight.

I finished my dinner, cleaned up the dishes, and put the portion I’d set aside for Annabelle in the fridge. I worked on planning a simple training course for Annabelle to run through tomorrow until it was dark. Thoughts ran through my mind while I took my shower until they finally fell on our safety. If Cas was right about Annabelle, we’d have to get moving tomorrow to steer clear of angels and demons. As soon as I was out of the shower and dressed, I went to talk to Dean. I found him leaning in Annabelle’s doorway half asleep with the demon knife strapped to his side.

“Guess you figured it out too?” I asked.

“Yeah. We should head to Bobby’s first thing tomorrow,” Dean said. He didn’t take his eyes off of Annabelle, who seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

“What makes you think he’ll take us in? He’s still mad you brought a vampire back from Purgatory with you,” I said.

“It’s a kid’s safety. I’m sure Bobby’ll understand,” Dean said groggily.

“I’ll give him a call. Get some rest,” I said.

Dean pulled a chair into Annabelle’s room. I sat at the foot of my bed across the hall and dialed Bobby’s number.

“What’d ya get yourself into this time, ya idjit?” Bobby asked. I could almost hear the eye roll in his voice.

“Bobby, can I ask you a favor?” I asked.

“What do you need, boy?” Bobby asked.

“We saved a kid yesterday. She lost her family and we took her in. Cas says she’s powerful. We got her the anti-possession tattoo and the angel sigils, but we need a new place to stay. Would you mind taking us in, just for a few weeks so we can teach her the basics?” I felt horrible asking Bobby to take us in.

“‘Us’ being you and the kid, right?” Bobby said.

“No, us being Dean, the kid, and I. Bobby, I know you’re mad about the whole vampire thing, but the vamp got Dean back to Earth,” I said.

“All right. You two idjits be careful with that kid,” Bobby said.

“Thanks, Bobby. It means a lot, really,” I said.

“Don’t mention it.” Bobby hung up.

I barely slept at all. What sleep I got was light and the sound of Dean trying to get more comfortable in his chair woke me up. When the sun started to rise, I threw my clothes in my bag and checked on Dean and Annabelle. Dean was fast asleep, but Annabelle groaned and rolled over when I opened the door.

“Morning, sunshine,” I said quietly.

“My ribs hurt,” Annabelle muttered.

“Yeah. They’ve got Enochian carved into them,” I said. 

“Enochian?” Annabelle put her arm over her eyes and cringed.

“Angel writing. It hides you from them. Come on, we’ve gotta get moving,” I said.

“Moving?” Annabelle moaned.

“They might know you’re here already. We’ve gotta move to keep you safe,” I said.

“Where are we going?” Annabelle sat up, grimacing a little.

“An old friend agreed to take the three of us in for a few weeks,” I said.

“That’s who, I asked for where,” Annabelle said.

“Sioux Falls.” I glanced at Dean when I heard him moving around in his chair.

“Bobby agreed to take us in?” Dean asked groggily.

“Yeah. Get packed and we’ll head out,” I said.

“Already packed.” Dean trudged into the main room of the house and I heard him plop down on the couch. I looked at Annabelle.

“Tell me you’re ready to go.” I sighed.

"Might as well get on the road.” Annabelle stood and stuffed everything she’d taken out of her bag back in and we headed to the main room to get Dean up.

“Dean, let’s go. You can sleep on the way,” I said.

“Gimme five more minutes, Sammy,” Dean mumbled.

“Now. Come on, Dean." I dropped Dean’s bag on top of his stomach and he jolted upright.

Dean grumbled a little, but he got up, tossed me his keys, and headed out to the car. Annabelle shrugged and followed him out. I stuffed some weapons that had been spread through the house in all of the normal places Dean hid them into a bag, tossed all of our bags into the trunk, and we hit the road.

Dean was asleep after the first few songs had played on his favorite album and, though she tried to fight it, Annabelle soon followed. I turned the radio off and listened to my companions’ breathing interrupting the peaceful silence. For the first time in a while, some of the tension left my shoulders and my grip on the wheel relaxed a little.

All was quiet for a few hours. As we crossed the Colorado/Nebraska border line, Dean started squirming in his seat which turned to small, sharp whimpers. Annabelle woke up and asked if we should pull over. I slid the Impala to a stop on the shoulder of the highway. Dean began cursing the wind and Annabelle tried to wake him up. When she finally managed to get Dean to open his eyes, Dean had already pulled himself together.

“Nightmare?” I asked.

“Uh, yeah, it was nothing.” Dean cleared his throat.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Annabelle asked.

“No. I’m fine.” Dean said.

I could tell he’d already put his man of steel act back on and he wasn’t going to tell Annabelle anything. Annabelle must’ve seen it in Dean’s eyes. She rolled her eyes and went back to sleep. Dean turned his music back up and relaxed a little. I kept driving for a few more hours before going through a drive through and getting some lunch for Dean and Annabelle.

“Annabelle, get up. Lunch.” Dean tapped Annabelle’s shoulder.

“What do we have?” Annabelle asked.

“Burgers,” I said.

“Do you two ever eat anything even remotely healthy?” Annabelle asked.

“When we aren’t on the road, I try,” I said.

“I think I’ll pass.” Annabelle got a new book out and started reading.

“More for me,” Dean said through a mouthful of burger.

“If we keep moving, we’ll get to Bobby’s by sundown,” I said.

We continued, only stopping for gas until we reached Bobby’s salvage yard.


	15. Annabelle

A man about six feet tall wearing a plaid, button-up shirt with a T-shirt underneath, some faded out blue jeans, a blue baseball cap, and good work boots answered the door with a drink in his hand. He greeted Dean and Sam warmly with hugs and a large grin before turning to me.

“You must be the kid the boys took in,” the man said. He stuck out his hand and introduced himself. “I’m Bobby.”

“I’m Annabelle.” I shook Bobby’s hand.

“Come in. Make yourself comfortable.” Bobby held the door open and I followed Sam and Dean inside.

The entire first level of the house was covered in old books and papers. There was enough room to walk and some space here and there to sit down, but the rest was an ocean of books. A couch sat in the middle of what I assumed was the living room. Dean dropped his bag by the door and made a beeline for the couch. Sam and I copied what Dean had done and joined him on the musty red couch.

“These boys been watching out for you?” Bobby asked.

“As much as they can, sir,” I answered, unsure what I should call Bobby.

“Call me Bobby. Sir’s too . . . formal.” Bobby made a face at the word “sir”. “You hungry?”

“I’m good, thanks,” I said.

“She’s had a long day. Is it okay if I show her to a room and let her get some rest?” Sam said. He was clearly trying to get me out of the room so the “adults” could talk so I feigned a yawn.

“Go ahead.” Bobby gestured at the wooden stairs with one arm.

“Mind if I take a shower first?” I asked.

“No problem. Come on, I’ll show you where the bathroom is,” Sam said. He started walking up the stairs. They creaked each time he moved.

I shouldered my bag and followed Sam up the creaky old stairs and to the end of a dark hallway. Sam flipped on the light in a room on the left side of the hall and let me slip past him. The room had a queen-sized bed surrounded by books with a desk shoved in the corner. I pulled a T-shirt and some shorts out of my bag along with my makeup bag full of bath supplies out of my duffel. Sam pointed out the bathroom and went back downstairs.

I took a quick shower and flipped through some of the books in the bedroom I had been given. Lore books. The house was filled with lore books from all over the world. My mind was blown just thinking about how hard it would have been to dig these up. I took in all of the lore on werewolves, vampires, and vengeful spirits I could.

I woke up the next morning with an open book resting on my chest.

_Must’ve fallen asleep reading,_ I thought.

I closed the book and dug some clothes out of my bag. Sunlight was already peeking through the dusty windows so the boys were probably already awake. It was a matter of time before one of them knocked on my door and yelled for me to get up. I threw on a pair of jeans and an old Broncos jersey and headed downstairs.

Bobby, Dean, and Sam were sitting around a table in the kitchen eating toaster waffles and bowls of cereal and milk.

“Morning,” I said as I sat down between Dean and Sam.

“Make your own breakfast. Everything’s on the counter. Nice shirt,” Dean said between bites.

“Thanks.” I got myself a waffle and a glass of milk. Breakfast passed silently.

After all of our plates were cleared, Sam and Dean went over the plan for the day. From what I understood, we were doing a lot of physical activity. I pulled on my tennis shoes and stretched my legs out a little before joining the boys for whatever training they had planned for me.

By lunchtime, I was drenched in sweat from a combination of summer heat and all the running the boys had me doing. After lunch, Sam took over and had me doing warm-ups all afternoon. When he let me go for the day, I took a shower and continued reading the lore books in my room until dinner. After I ate, I crashed on the couch watching TV.


	16. Dean

We continued training for about a month. By the end of that time, Annabelle could answer almost any question about werewolves, vamps, vengeful spirits, and lots of other monsters. Bobby swears he’s gonna take Annabelle from us sometime to help him out. When we mentioned finding a case, Annabelle brought down one of Bobby’s old lore books and Sam’s laptop. She had all of the details figured out. Annabelle had figured out that the vengeful spirit was Alexis Page, a teenager who’d been kidnapped and murdered, and that Alexis had been cremated. All Annabelle needed was a ride to Casper, Wyoming and help finding whatever it was that Alexis had attached herself to.

We packed, said our goodbyes to Bobby, and made the eight-hour drive to Casper. Sam looked into the articles and Annabelle and I prepared the salt rifles before we crashed for the night.

Things went fine for a few days. Annabelle and I snooped around the building Alexis was haunting and Sam interviewed witnesses and family members of the victims. Then he showed up. Annabelle and I were about to start searching the warehouse again when a man came up behind us.

“What are you two doing here?” he asked.

“I’m Agent Mulder and this is my intern Annabelle. We’re investigating a few deaths that have occurred here in the past month.” I flashed my badge.

“You shouldn’t be snooping around here. ’Specially not with a pretty little girl,” the man said.

“And why would that be, sir?” I asked.

“My daughter. She was killed here. Probably the same person who killed my little girl’s killing the others. She was about your age.” The man pointed at Annabelle.

“Sir, can I have your name? I’ll have my partner talk to you. We’ve got some work to do here,” I said.

“No!” The man, Alexis’s father, pulled out a gun and pointed it at my chest. “You’re gonna leave and never look back. Tell the FBI we don’t need your help.”

“And if I don’t?” I tested.

“This your little girl?” Alexis’s father pointed his gun at Annabelle. “Turn around, sweetheart.”

“Yeah. Yeah, she’s mine. Why don’t you put the gun away, pal?” I said as Annabelle slowly turned around. The gun was pointed where Annabelle’s back became her neck.

“You’re gonna see what it’s like to have your daughter taken from you. Right in front of your eyes. On your knees, girl,” the man snarled. Annabelle followed instructions and the man put his gun to the back of her head.

“If you so much as scratch her, I will kill you,” I growled.

“You see, you guys send someone down here for two murders, but when Alexis was murdered, we were on our own,” the man said.

Annabelle’s eyes were clamped shut, but tears still ran down her cheeks. She was waiting for the man to pull the trigger. This was my fault. _I have to get her out of here._

“If you let her go, we’ll leave town. We’ll never come back,” I tried to bargain.

“No! You’ve gone too far. There’s no looking back,” the man said.

Annabelle flinched as the man pulled the gun off of safety, making a faint click that must’ve sounded a million times louder to her. Annabelle was shaking pretty bad and her face glistened with tears.

“Come on, do you really want to make someone else go through what you had to? Why make someone else suffer when you have the opportunity to help us find out who murdered your daughter?” I tried to keep my tone calm.

“It’s not the same! You ‘Federal Agents’ never understood anyway!” The man had tears in his eyes.

“Look, I’m different. Put the gun away before you do something you’ll regret later,” I said.

“Different? You’re just like them! You flash your badge and think you can do whatever you want! How are you different?” the man said.

“For one thing, I’m not wearing a suit. I drive my own car. I understand people have feelings. I respect that your daughter died here. I understand you want justice, but if you don’t let Annabelle go, I’m gonna have to kill you.” I forced my voice to stay level and steady.

“Do it!” the man said. He pushed the gun forward, causing Annabelle to fall forward onto her hands. “Get back on your knees!” the man yelled.

“Okay. Sorry, I’m sorry!” Annabelle cried. She pulled herself back onto her knees, her eyes still shut tight.

“Let. Her. Go,” I growled.

“Or what? You aren’t gonna kill me! You don’t have the guts!” the man said.

“No, I’ll make sure your soul is tortured in the depths of hell,” I said.

“You’re bluffing,” the man said.

“Really? I’m pretty sure murder is one of the Deadly Sins,” I said.

“I don’t care,” the man growled.

“Look at her! Look at how scared she is! She’s shaking and crying! You did that to her. How does it make you feel? To have a life in your hands? To know that any second, you could ruin a family’s happiness? Does it make you feel powerful? Does it ease the pain at all?” I said. It seemed to click in the man’s mind but he still needed some convincing. “Do you feel any better knowing that the rest of that girl’s life depends on what you do right now? Does it even matter to you that this girl has a family out there besides just me? Do you care that she’s a great athlete and has lots of friends? Does it matter that I’ll be the one that has to tell her mother I couldn’t save her? Or—or that I’ll never forgive myself if you pull that trigger?”

The man finally clicked the gun back to safety and put it away. Annabelle ran to me and held on to me. She cried into my shirt. I kissed the top of her head.

“It’s okay. I won’t let him hurt you,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t— I wasn’t thinking,” the man said.

I pulled Annabelle closer to me and glared at the man until he went away.

“Let’s go back to the room. We’ll take today off, okay?" I said softly.

Annabelle let go of me and nodded. She wiped tears off of her cheeks as we headed toward the Impala. On the way back to the motel, I could hear Annabelle sniffling and every now and then, she would let out a tiny sob. I pulled over and tried to talk to her.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“I’m fine, Dean,” Annabelle said.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yeah, I’m just shaken up. I don’t like having a gun held to my head,” Annabelle said.

“All right. We’re gonna talk about this when we get back to the motel.” I pulled back onto the road to the motel.


	17. Sam

Witnesses and family of the latest victim were no use. They were still way too shaken up to give me straight answers so I went back to the motel early. I planned on being alone for a few hours at least. I wanted to catch up on some of the television shows Dean called “nerdy” and maybe read a book or two. I was surprised and a little alarmed when I found Dean trying to comfort Annabelle in the small motel room.

“What happened? Is everything alright?” I asked. I should admit I sounded a little frantic.

“Kid just had a gun held to her head for the first time. She’s a little shaken up.” Dean turned his attention back to Annabelle. “I wouldn’t have let him hurt you. You know that.”

“I know. You guys would never let anyone hurt me, not if you can stop them. It just scared me, Dean. I’ll be fine.” Annabelle sniffled.  
“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” I looked over Annabelle for any visible injuries.  
“No. I’m fine. I’m just scared,” Annabelle said. Her lip quivered and I pulled her into a hug.  
“It’s okay. You’re safe. Let it go,” I said.  
“I thought he was going to kill me.” Annabelle let out a sob.  
“I know. The first time’s always the hardest. It could’ve been worse. He could have kidnapped you. The point is we’re all safe,” I said. Annabelle seemed to calm down. She sat back down on the bed and stared into Dean’s eyes for a minute. Neither of them knew what to say to the other.  
“I’m sorry. I almost lost control. It’s my fault that happened,” Dean said.  
“Dean, no. It wasn’t your fault. I knew even if you couldn’t get to me in time, you’d make sure his death was a thousand times worse than mine. I knew I was gonna be fine,” Annabelle said.  
“You’re family now. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if he had—” Dean cut himself short. “I won’t let it happen again.”

“Rule number one of hunting: don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Annabelle gave Dean a faint smile.

“That’s the spirit. I’m sorry, Annabelle. I really am,” Dean said.

“It’s okay. I’m all right. That’s all that matters,” Annabelle said.

“So I guess we’re all taking the day off?” I said.

“No, I am. You two go do me a favor,” Annabelle said. Dean and I stared at her blankly, waiting for her to continue. “There was an old ID in the warehouse. I didn’t think much of it before, but now I’m thinking maybe that’s what Alexis is attached to. Maybe it belonged to her killer. Go get it and take it to that man. Tell him what I thought about it and we can see if that stops whatever’s going on in that warehouse by sending me in alone tonight.”

“There is no way I’m sending you in there—”

“Dean, we have to. It’s the least we can do for Alexis and her dad,” Annabelle said.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” I said.

“Look, I think it’s the fastest way to take care of this case and get out of town. It’s not like I’ll be unarmed. I’ll have a sawed-off,” Annabelle said, determination in her voice.

“Okay, I’m in,” I said.

“As long as we can get out of town by tomorrow,” Dean agreed.

Dean and I searched the warehouse for hours. We went from aisle to aisle, searching every level of every shelf.

“Are you actually gonna let her go in alone?” I asked while I dug through a crate of junk.

“No way,” Dean answered.

“We should at least let her—”

“I said no, Sam,” Dean said tightly. “It’s her first hunt. She’s not going in alone.”

“We’ll be right outside. We can wait by the door. She’ll scream if she needs us,” I said.

Dean didn’t answer. I heard him start to rummage through the tub he was holding faster and I continued down the aisle. I picked up a box that was smaller than the others and lifted the flaps. An ID and a worn leather wallet lay in the box. I picked up the wallet and opened it. A driver’s license that matched the ID and faded pictures of a girl that looked like Alexis were in the wallet.

“I found it,” I said.

“You sure that’s it?” Dean asked, looking at the objects in my hand.

“Yeah. Wallet has pictures of Alexis in it. You know Mr. Page lives?” I asked as I stuffed the wallet and ID in my pocket.

“No, but I bet Annabelle does. We’ll run back to the motel and get the address then head out,” Dean said.

“Let’s go,” I said.


	18. Annabelle

There were only a few hours left until sunset when the boys came back to ask for Mr. Page’s address. While they were gone I packed a small bag of everything I would need: sawed-off, salt rounds, salt, and iron crowbar. I slipped the pistol Dean and Sam had given me into the waistband of my jeans like they had taught me. I was ready for anything.

When Sam and Dean came back, we headed out right away. Dean lectured me on how to be safe the entire way to the old warehouse. I barely paid attention to him. I knew Alexis wasn’t attached to the wallet. If she was, she would’ve just led someone to it. I didn’t know what she was attached to, to be honest. I had my own plan: lure Alexis out and talk her into passing over. I figured since we both had guns held to our heads, maybe I could relate to her a little bit.

“Okay, guys. I’m gonna go in and use myself as bait. You two stay outside the door. Don’t follow me in; I don’t want to scare Alexis. If I need help, I’ll scream, okay?” I said. I looked through my bag one more time.

“No problem. Be safe,” Dean said.

“We’ll be ready in case you need help. Good luck,” Sam said.

I nodded and we got out of the car. Once I was inside the warehouse, I dropped my bag by the door and disarmed myself besides the pistol. I positioned myself in the middle of the warehouse and started talking.

“Alexis? I’m here to talk to you. Do you mind coming out?” I asked. I felt the temperature drop.

“What do you want to talk about?” The voice was sweet and inviting. It was the tone of voice an old friend would use with you. I glanced around, but didn’t see anyone.

“Something that happened earlier and something that’s been going on here,” I said.

“What happened earlier?” A girl that was clearly Alexis appeared inches from me. She didn’t look like a vengeful spirit. She looked like a lonely teenager. I took a step back.

“I had a gun held to my head, like you did,” I said.

“But you’re still alive.” Alexis tilted her head and furrowed her eyebrows, clearly confused.

“Yeah. Someone saved me. I thought we might have a close enough connection to get you to cross over,” I said quietly.

“I don’t want to cross over. I want to help,” Alexis said.

“Help with what? Alexis, I think you may have killed a few girls.” I said the last sentence gently, trying not to make Alexis mad.

“I didn’t kill those girls! I tried to help them! It was the man who killed me! He’s coming again tonight!” Alexis said.

“I don’t think he is. We found his ID and wallet here earlier. We gave it to your dad to give to the police. He should be locked up by now,” I said.

“He’s not because he’s hiding in here! He has a bunker under the warehouse!” Alexis was frantically waving her arms toward a corner of the warehouse.

“Show me,” I said.

“That’s suicide!” Alexis said.

“I’ve got it.” I showed Alexis the pistol I had in my waistband.

“You don’t understand! He’s got—!”

“I know what I’m doing,” I interrupted. Alexis pulled my gun and shakily trained it on me.

"No! I won’t let you do that!" Alexis said.

"Why not? I’ve been trained to do stuff like this," I said.

"Because he’s different. He’s powerful,” Alexis said.

"What do you—?" My phone went off. "I need to get that. Is it okay if I answer that?" I moved my hand slowly into my pocket and pulled my phone out.

"Who is it?" Alexis asked.

"My dad," I lied. It was Dean. "Can I get it? He’s probably worried about me."

"Go ahead," Alexis said.

"Hey, Dad. What’s going on?" I said as I put the phone to my ear.

"Annabelle, get out of there, now. It’s not Alexis," Dean said frantically.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

“The killer. He’s dead. He’s in there. His victims are all fourteen-year-old girls. Get out of there now,” Dean said.

"No. I can handle it," I said.

"Annabelle, now,” Dean said sternly.

"Dad, I can handle it. You taught me how to do this. I learned from the best. I’ve got it,” I said and hung up. “Okay, change of plans. We’re gonna wait for your killer to come to us. Let me go get another gun for myself.”

"You should just leave. He’s fast," Alexis said.

"I’m not leaving until you cross over," I said and headed toward the door. I dug out my sawed-off and extra salt rounds and went back to the middle of the warehouse. Alexis and I stood back to back. My senses were on high and I heard every little sound in the warehouse.

After a while, I heard a man laughing. I turned to the sound and saw a man in grimy construction worker style clothes holding a crowbar. 

"Does he beat his victims?" I asked Alexis nervously.

"Yeah. Then he blows their brains out. Look out!" Alexis yelled. I fired a salt round into the man and his spirit disappeared.

"That’s a temporary fix. He’ll be back and he’ll be pissed. Cover me. I’m calling my dad," I said. I pulled out my phone and dialed Sam’s number.

"Annabelle! Are you okay? What’s going on?" Sam asked.

"I’m fine. I need you to go get the wallet and ID back. He’s here and he’s pissed at me for shooting him. Leave Dean here but tell him to stay out unless he hears something go wrong. Hurry!" I hung up and spun around to find the man’s spirit feet away from Alexis. "Alexis, duck!" I yelled and fired my sawed-off again. I hit the spirit square between the eyes. He looked confused then disappeared.

"Nice shot." Alexis stood and dusted herself off.

"My dad is sending his brother to find the ID and wallet. We’ll salt and burn it and your killer should be gone. We just have to survive until then," I said.

"Anything else I should know?" Alexis asked.

"That gun is loaded with iron bullets. If you shoot him with those, he’ll disappear just like with the salt," I told her. Alexis nodded, and we concentrated on our surroundings.

Thirty seconds later, the murderous ghost appeared inches from my face. I didn’t have time or space to raise my gun. The ghost lifted his metal rod and swung it at my stomach. I yelped when the cold metal hit me and fell to the ground, gasping for air. I clamped my eyes shut, waiting for the next blow. I heard a shot ring out. I opened my eyes and no one was in front of me. I felt a cold wind on my back as Alexis rushed up behind me.

"Are you okay?" she asked frantically.

"Fine. I’m fine," I wheezed. I was pretty sure the blow had broken a rib, but I had to keep fighting. I pulled myself off of the dirty cement floor. I tried to straighten up, but no matter how hard I tried, I was still a little hunched over.

"Are you sure? You don’t look like you’re okay." Alexis moved around me, looking me over carefully.

"I’m fine," I said sharply. "I just need to breath for a while."

I regained my composure and managed to defend myself for an hour. Each time I shot the sawed-off, pain spread through my torso. Finally, Sam pounded on the door.

"I’ve got them! I’m sliding them under the door!" Sam yelled.

"Alexis, watch my back. I’ll go salt and burn them." I ran toward the front door, ignoring the overwhelming pain in my side.

I skidded to a stop in front of the door and picked up the objects Sam had slipped under the door. I dug out my zip-lock bag of salt, gasoline, and lighter and ran a little ways away from the door. I dropped the wallet and ID at my feet. After throwing a handful of salt over them and soaking them in gasoline, I lit a corner of the ID with my lighter and threw it onto the wallet. All I could do was nervously wait for them to really catch fire and completely burn. It was the longest minute of my life.

Right before the wallet and ID caught fire, I heard footsteps behind me. I turned to see the killer creeping up on me. I had left my sawed-off by the door that was now blocked by the ghost. I cursed and prayed the fire would light. I faintly heard Alexis yelling for me to move but I had to make sure the ghost didn’t put the fire out. The fire lit seconds before the spirit got close enough to hit me, sparing me a lot of pain.

When it was over, I turned to Alexis who smiled brightly at me. I gave her a relieved smile and dropped what was left over of my supplies into my bag. I found myself face to face with Alexis when I turned around.

"He’s gone now? Forever?" she asked.

"Yeah. Are you ready to go? It’ll be a lot better than here," I said.

"I think I am. What do I do?" Alexis asked.

"There should be a bright light. Do you see it?" I asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, it’s right there," Alexis said. She nodded at the back wall of the warehouse.

"Go into that light," I instructed.

"Before I go, I need to thank you for saving me and a lot of other people. You’re a great person. Maybe I’ll see you when your time comes?" Alexis said.

"I’ll try to find you. Until then, enjoy yourself," I said.

"Goodbye. Thank you." Alexis walked to the edge of the warehouse, glowed brightly, and disappeared.

I collapsed against a counter by the door, cringing whenever I had to move my torso. I took in the silence and took calming breaths for a few minutes.

"Annabelle? Is everything okay? Am I good to come in?" Dean asked through the door.

"Yeah. Come in. Sam, do you have stuff to fix a broken rib?" I groaned. I squinted at the light that streamed through the doorway.

"Yeah. Do you think you need it?" Sam asked, worry leaking into his otherwise calm and collected voice.

"What happened?" Dean asked.

"Crowbars hurt," I muttered. "Should we do this at the motel?"

"Yeah. It’ll be easier there. You think you can get up?" Sam asked.

“‘Course I can get up. It’s my ribs. Doesn’t affect my walking,” I grumbled as I stood.

Sam sent Dean on an ice run before he started working out what had happened.

"Where’d he hit you?" Sam asked.

"Hang on. Let me change my clothes and I’ll let you see." I grabbed a sports bra from my bag and quickly changed into it in the bathroom. It was hard to lift my arms over my head, but I managed. The bruising was pretty bad. The bruise was a dark, storm-cloud color. It had also swollen up quite a bit.

Sam took one look and said, “Yep, it’s broken.”

"You can tell by just looking at it?" I asked. I sat on the edge of the bed and Sam stood in front of me.

"Yeah. I’m gonna have to pop it in place. Take these first." Sam handed me a couple of pills and some water.

"What is it?" I asked warily.

"Pain medication. Just take it," Sam said.

I did as I was told and Sam popped the rib back in place. It took all of my willpower to keep from screaming. Sam mumbled a few apologies and comforted me the best he could before he wrapped my torso.

"When will Dean be back with the ice?" I moaned as I lay back on the bed.

"Soon. Relax, Annabelle," Sam said.

After a while, Dean came back with a bag of ice, some Ziploc bags, and stuff for dinner. Sam put a few bags of ice on the side of my body with the broken rib and insisted I go to sleep for the night. I gladly agreed. I wasn’t hungry after my ordeal anyway. I fell asleep quickly.


	19. Dean

Annabelle slept soundly through the night. I hardly slept at all. I was anxious to get out of Casper and far away from Wyoming. I picked out a case in Parral, Texas for Sam and I. It was a small poltergeist case that took a lot of digging to find. I had everything packed up and Sam and Annabelle in the Impala before the people of Casper started driving to work. I could tell Annabelle was sore by the way she cringed whenever she had to move, but she wasn’t complaining.

"Annabelle, go steal a pillow from the room. It’s a fifteen hour drive to Texas and I want you to be comfortable," I said before she got in the car.

"I’m fine. Just give me some more painkillers and I’ll be no trouble at all." Annabelle said. It obviously hurt her to talk and her voice was nearly a whisper.

"Come on. We’ve got a few minutes before we have to head out. Sam, I’ll finish getting everything packed up. Go back in with Annabelle," I insisted.

"We’ll be back out in a few minutes," Sam said. He led Annabelle back into the motel and I finished cramming our bags into the trunk.

Annabelle came back with a pillow, though she didn’t look too happy about it, and got herself comfortable in the back. Sam followed and got in shotgun. I made sure we had everything and we hit the road.

 

The drive left me exhausted but my night wasn’t over. After we checked into a motel and made sure Annabelle would be okay until Sam and I came back, Sam and I drove to Parral’s police department and gave them notice that two federal agents were in town as a courtesy. 

"Evening, Sheriff. I’m Agent Hamil and this is my partner Agent Ford," I introduced Sam and I. We flashed counterfeit FBI badges. "We’re in town investigating the recent string of murders."

"Agents." The sheriff nodded and shook our hands. "Have a seat. I’ll grab the files for you."

"That’s not necessary. We just got into town and we’re exhausted. I’ll come by to pick up the files nine o’clock tomorrow morning," Sam said.

"They’ll be ready for you. Do you need anything tonight?" the sheriff asked.

"No, sir. Just wanted to let you know we’re in town," Sam said.

"Have a good night, Sheriff," I said.

"You too, Agents," Sheriff answered.

Sam drove us back to the motel. Annabelle was already passed out in one of the beds when we got there. I crashed on the other bed leaving Sam with the couch.

Annabelle helped Sam look through the files and the articles surrounding the deaths of everyone who had been murdered in a hundred yard radius of one of the houses in suburban Parral while I interviewed neighbors and family members of the victims. Sam insisted I check the records of the area in the library.

Eventually, I found a descendent of one of the victims from twenty years ago. William Schrock lived on a farm fifty miles outside of town. I asked Sam if he wanted to switch off and take this interview but he declined saying he was happy doing the bookwork and watching over Annabelle.

The farm smelled like crap. Looking around the place, I could see why. The pen the cattle were in didn’t look like it had been cleaned in years. I knocked on the door and got my badge ready. A man that looked rather scrawny for being a farmer answered the door, shotgun in hand.

"This is private property. Get out," the man said.

"Mr. Schrock? I’m Agent Hamil with the FBI." I showed the man my badge and he put the gun down. "I need to ask you some questions if you don’t mind."

"That’s me. Sorry, Agent. Come on in." Schrock stepped back and allowed me inside his home. He led me to a table and offered a chair. "What do you need to know about?"

"Your mother was killed in the area of the recent murders, correct?"

"That’s right, sir."

"You’re listed as a witness."

"I saw my mother die."

"Would you mind explaining that to me?"

"What is it you’re investigating, Agent? I thought my mom’s murder case was closed."

"It’s been reopened. There’s a chance the man that killed your mother is on another killing spree. What happened the night your mother was killed?"

"Whatever it was, I didn’t see anything. Mom just collapsed. No one was there. Dad was working."

"Was there anything else you noticed? A drop in temperature? Maybe the lights flickering?"

"The power went out before Mom died."

"I think that’s all I need, Mr. Schrock. Thank you for your time." I shook Schrock’s hand and drove back to the motel to see what Sam and Annabelle had found.


	20. Sam

Once I let her take over, Annabelle was a natural at researching. After about an hour, Annabelle had found the house the poltergeist murders were linked to, the woman she thought was haunting the house, and where the woman was buried.

“I wrote down the directions to the cemetery. Once you get there, it should be a simple salt and burn,” Annabelle said, grimacing at the pain of her broken rib as she stood.

“Thanks, Annabelle. Listen, get some rest. I’ll call Dean and have him bring back some food,” I said after I took the paper from Annabelle and put it in my pocket.

“I want to help you pack for tonight,” Annabelle said.

“It’s okay. I’ll take care of it,” I insisted. Annabelle tried to huff, but pain stopped her.

“Fine. What do you want me to do?” Annabelle asked.

“Lay down. Get some sleep. Read. Anything as long as you’re relaxing. You’re clearly exhausted,” I said.

Annabelle grumbled a little, but she got somewhat comfortable on one of the beds and was asleep in a few minutes. I was about to call Dean when I heard the roar of the Impala pulling into the motel parking lot. Dean came in and glanced from Annabelle to me.

“How’s she doing?” Dean dropped his notepad and pen on the cheap table in the tiny kitchen and started digging through his duffle for a change of clothes.

“She’s not complaining. I let her take care of the research. She fell asleep a few minutes ago. How was the interview?” I looked over Dean’s notes.

“Guy didn’t know much. He was a kid when he saw what he saw.” Dean pulled the sheets up to Annabelle’s neck. “I feel bad for the kid. Do you think we should call Cas in to heal her?” Dean asked.

“I think she can handle it. She’s a tough kid.” I smiled. Watching Dean take care of Annabelle reminded me of when Dean took care of me when we were kids.

“Alright. I need to get out of this suit. We’ll head out at dusk.” Dean grabbed his clothes and went into the bathroom.

Annabelle was right about the case being a simple salt and burn but we stayed in town until Annabelle’s rib healed.


	21. Annabelle

I had been traveling with the boys for a few months now. The hot summer months were beginning to turn to cold winter days all over the country. The boys had insisted I get enrolled in school and we found a little two-story house in Lincoln, Nebraska with easy access to the highway in case we needed to make a quick getaway and got me started in Scott Middle School.

With holiday season, my mom’s birthday rolled around, November third. Dean, Sam, and I were working a djinn case in a small town near Chicago.

The first thing I did when I woke up that day was dig my mom’s old Bible out of my duffel bag and put it to my face, over my mouth and just below my nose. I inhaled deeply, closing my eyes and feeling like I was in her arms for just a second. The smell of that Bible was comforting because it smelled like home. It smelled like my mom’s vanilla perfume and my dad’s Axe cologne and I loved it. Sam and Dean didn’t know about the Bible. I thought it might seem a little childish to them so I kept it to myself.  
“Happy birthday, Mom. I love you,” I whispered. I lightly kissed the worn black leather.

I opened the thick book to my mom’s favorite verse and read it quietly to myself before burying the Bible in my bag again.   
I got dressed and dug some cash out of Dean’s wallet. I scribbled a quick not saying I went to get them breakfast and I’d be back in a few minutes.

I went to the McDonald’s across the street and returned with a bag of McMuffins and a tray with two cups of coffee and an orange juice for me. Dean and Sam were just waking up when I got back.

“Morning, boys! Rise and shine!” I said as I set our meal down on the table.

“Since when are you the first up?” Dean grumbled as he got out of bed. His short-cropped hair stuck up all over the place.

“Since when do you sleep in?” I retorted.

“She’s got a point,” Sam mumbled. He grabbed one of the cups of coffee and gulped a bit of it down.

“Whatever. I got a new lead. Djinn’s hiding out in the basement of this old apartment building on the edge of town,” Dean said.

“I feel a downside coming,” I said as I passed out the greasy breakfast sandwiches.

“You’re the only one of us that can fit in the entrance of the basement,” Sam said.

“What do you mean? The djinn’s your size. How could it get back there if you can’t?” I asked.

“The djinn can pop in and out. The way regular humans get in by themselves is through a crawl space. They didn’t keep grown- or over-grown men- in mind. Sam and I are too big,” Dean said.

“Are you saying you’re gonna let me go in there by myself?” I asked, my excitement leaking into my voice a little.

“We don’t have another choice.” Dean didn’t sound happy about it.

“I’ll be fine! When can we go?” I asked eagerly.

“We’ll head down after we eat, be out by noon,” Sam said.

“Okay, I’ll get the knife ready,” I said.

* * *

An hour later, we pulled up to the old apartment building. Sam gave me the knife and led me over to the crawl space while Dean went over safety instructions again. I barely listened because he had gone over them five times before we had gotten here.

“Annabelle, be careful,” Sam said as he opened the crawl space.

“Good luck,” Dean said.

“I’ll be back soon.” I knelt and started crawling through the narrow space into the basement.

The room was dark and damp. Some poor man hung from his hands in a corner, being slowly drained of his blood. The djinn was nowhere to be seen so I made my way to the man, trying to stay in the darkest shadows. I put my index and middle finger to the man’s neck. There was a faint pulse so I pulled the needle out of his neck. I took out the pocketknife the boys had given me and started sawing at the ropes holding the man up.

I hadn’t made it too deep into the ropes when a warm hand roughly the size of Dean’s grabbed my right hip. I was instantly sleepy. I dropped the pocketknife and tried to call for Dean and Sam to help me, but my voice wasn’t working. I turned around to see my attacker. A bald man covered in glowing tattoos stood inches from my face. I tried to fight the overwhelming urge to close my eyes, but eventually I couldn’t stay awake any longer.

* * *

I woke up in my bed at home to the alarm that used to be set on my phone to wake me up. I pulled my phone from under my pillow and dismissed the alarm, slightly confused as to how I got here and what was going on. I glanced at the date, Saturday, November third, twenty-fourteen. I jumped out of bed and ran across the hall. I slowly opened the door and peeked inside. My parents were alive, sleeping blissfully in their bed.

I ran down the stairs, beside myself with happiness, and into the kitchen. I opened the fridge and pulled out eggs, sausage, bacon, and every other breakfast food I could find. I threw together a huge breakfast, made plates for everyone, and headed back upstairs.

I went to my mom first, considering it was her birthday, and gently shook her awake. I wrapped Mom in a suffocating hug, taking in the way her shampoo smelled along with that familiar perfume.

“Happy birthday, Mom!” I exclaimed. I grabbed a plate I had made special for her off of the dresser and put it in her hands.

“What’s this?” Mom asked, a delightful smile spreading across her face, light playing in her soft, chocolate-colored eyes.

“Just something I threw together.” I shrugged. I was also smiling widely.

“Wow! This is amazing! Thank you, sweetie,” Mom said through a bite of the omelet I’d made.

“Anything for you, Mom. I love you,” I said.

“Love you, too.” Mom smiled kindly.

I moved to Dad’s side of the bed and woke him up. He was impressed and a little surprised by what I was doing, but it didn’t matter, I had my family back. I gave my brother and sister the same treatment. They thought I was insane when I kissed their foreheads as I handed them a plate of food.

By noon, I had cleaned the entire house, done the dishes, folded laundry, and groomed the dog. I sat down on the couch between Mom and Dad to watch a movie. I had never felt more content in my life.

“Annabelle, are you feeling okay?” Dad asked. I had never done much around the house so this was a huge surprise.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just in a good mood.” I smiled.

“What’s gotten into you?” Mom giggled.

“I just . . . I love you and I don’t ever want to be without you,” I said.

“We love you too, baby.” Mom kissed the top of my head and Dad put his hand on mine.

* * *

I lived out a few weeks, happy and carefree. One day, Dean’s voice came into my head.

“Annabelle, Annabelle, come on, wake up. You’ve gotta wake up,” Dean’s voice muttered.

I ignored it for a while and hid in my room, claiming I needed a nap. Dean’s voice continued for hours. Sometimes Sam would yell something from across the room. Finally, I remembered how I had gotten into this universe with my family and I knew what I had to do.

Once everyone had fallen asleep, I found Dad’s gun. He claimed he kept it in case there was a burglar in the house, but I think he just thought it looked cool. I hid it in the waistband of my pants and woke up Mom.

“Hey, Mom. Before I go to bed, I just wanted to tell you I love you.” I hid the tears in my eyes and kissed Mom on the forehead. I did the same to Dad and went to my brother and sister’s room.

I woke my brother up and led him to the backyard. Tears streamed down my face, but I had to get out of here for Sam and Dean. I was doing this for them. Andrew asked a few questions and I shut him up. I pulled the gun out of my waistband. I put my brother’s hand around it in the right position and put the point against my chest.

“It’s a fake gun, I promise. Pull the trigger. It won’t hurt me,” I said.

“Why are you crying?” Andrew asked.

“I’m just pretending. I put water on my cheeks before I came to get you. Now hurry up and pull the trigger,” I coaxed.

Andrew did as he was told and I felt the bullet rip through my chest. I didn’t die for a few minutes. My entire family gathered around me. I bled out in the backyard in front of that old swing set I had so much fun on when I was a kid. I died grinning at it, recalling the little memories I had on it. Everything went black and my dream was over.

* * *

Dean had my right arm wrapped around his neck. He was trying to carry my weight, but he was getting a little frustrated. My feet dragged and I was basically a dead weight. Dean was headed toward a hole in the wall were sunlight streamed in. I couldn’t make out anything more because of the intensity of the midday sun.

“Dean,” I groaned. I tried to lift my head, but I was really lightheaded so I let it hang.

“Hey, kid. We’re gonna get you out of here. Feel like talking?” Dean sat me down against the nearest intact wall and lifted my chin so he could see my face.

“Got any water?” My voice was raspy and my tongue felt like a rock in my mouth.

“Sam! Get some water!” Dean called over his shoulder. “How do you feel?” Dean asked. Worry etched every movement he made. Sam slipped out of the hole in the wall and I listened to the sound of Sam’s running footsteps for a few moments.

“Tired. Lightheaded. How long was I in here? Please tell me it wasn’t two weeks,” I said. Dean tipped my head back so that it rested against the wall, but I could still see him.

“Two days. Djinns make it seem like a lot longer. Once we’re back in the car, you can get some more sleep. I’m glad you got out. Where’d it touch you?” Dean asked.

“My hip. Is that important?” I asked. Sam climbed back into the room and knelt next to me. He twisted the cap off of the water bottle and helped me drink it. After a few gulps, Sam pulled the bottle away.

“You have to go slow,” Sam said quietly.

“Come on, Sam, please,” I begged weakly. Sam looked me over like I was a helpless puppy and gave in.

“Annabelle, I need you to stay awake until we get to the motel. I need to see where the djinn touched you, okay?” Dean asked while I downed the rest of the water, enjoying the feeling of the cold liquid sliding down my throat.

“No problem,” I mumbled.

“Think you can stand?” Sam asked.

“I can try.” I gave the boys a faint smile and dragged myself to my feet, using the wall for support.

“Let me see your arm.” Dean swung my arm around his neck and helped me walk to the car. Sam followed us with the djinn’s body.

“Dean, I’m tired. Can I just show you here?” I asked groggily once I was sitting in the back of the Impala.

“I have to rub some stuff on it so that the poison won’t affect you anymore. That okay?” Dean said.

“Mmhm,” I muttered. I pulled my shirt up far enough to see a bright red handprint right above my hip. It almost looked like a burn. “’Nother battle scar,” I murmured.

“This’ll sting. Hold still.” Dean picked up a jar of liquid that was semi-transparent and dipped his fingers in it. He rubbed it on the handprint and I inhaled sharply. It felt like he was rubbing salt into a fresh wound. “Almost done,” Dean mumbled.

After a few seconds, Dean wiped his hand on his jeans and got into the driver’s seat of the Impala. Sam handed me another bottle of water when he got in. I sipped on it for a little bit before falling asleep.


	22. Dean

With Annabelle safe and comfortable in the backseat of the Impala, Sam and I decided it would be best to drive home. We stopped at the motel to pack up then hit the highway home.

Sam was clearly worried about Annabelle. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him glance back at her every now and then. I kept looking back at Annabelle in the rearview mirror. After a few hours, Annabelle hadn’t moved a muscle and Sam and I were glancing back more frequently.

“You want me to pull over and wake her up?” I asked.

Sam nodded and I pulled off at the next exit. Once I had parked in front of a gas station, Sam ran inside to get Annabelle some food and a bottle of water.

“Annabelle. Annabelle, wake up.” I turned so I could see Annabelle in the backseat and lightly shook her shoulder.

“What, Dean?” Annabelle groaned and sat up.

“Just wanted to get some fluids in you. Sam’s getting water for you. How are you feeling?” I asked softly. Annabelle’s eyes got glossy, but she quickly blinked the tears away.

“The emotional part’s starting to hit me,” Annabelle said equally softly.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have let you go in there alone,” I apologized.

“It’s okay. You had to. Where are we?” Annabelle asked.

“A few hours outside of Chicago headed for Lincoln,” I said.

“We’re going home?” Annabelle asked.

“Yeah. Sam and I decided that would be best,” I said. Sam came out of the little convenience store and got in the car. He handed Annabelle a protein bar and a bottle of water.

“I’m not hungry or thirsty. I just wanna go back to sleep.” Annabelle tried to give the water and protein bar back to Sam.

“You can sleep after you drink the water and eat a little,” Sam said.

“Fine,” Annabelle said, resignation and exhaustion in her voice.

Annabelle quickly drank the bottle of water and half of the protein bar before Sam let her go back to sleep.

“She shouldn’t be sleeping so much,” Sam said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean we should have her up and drinking a lot of water,” Sam said.

“She went through a lot. We’ll wake her up for dinner and keep her up for a while,” I said. Sam glanced back at Annabelle and sighed.

“Alright,” Sam said.

I kept driving until it started to get dark and I started to get hungry. I wanted to get some fast food burgers and continue down the road, but Sam insisted we get something healthier so we stopped at a Subway. Sam bought a few extra bottles of water for Annabelle and her sandwich.

Annabelle ate the sandwich while we were on the road after trying to argue with Sam. She claimed she was tired and she just wanted to sleep, but the six-inch sandwich was gone in twenty minutes.

“Now can I go back to sleep? Please?” Annabelle asked after she had finished.

“Drink a few bottles of water first,” Sam said.

“Sam—”

“You need to drink the water,” Sam said firmly.

“Dean, please, I wanna go back to sleep,” Annabelle begged.

“Sam’s right. You need to drink some water then you can go back to sleep,” I said.

“Fine,” Annabelle said though she didn’t sound happy about it.

We managed to get Annabelle to drink about half a gallon of water, but she tried to put up a fight between every bottle. By the time Sam was satisfied with how much water Annabelle had drank, we were home.

I got Annabelle inside while Sam unpacked the car and I convinced her to change into some clean clothes before she went to bed. Annabelle changed into an old T-shirt, a baggy pair of sweatpants, and an old hoodie with a faded CSU logo on it.

Annabelle barely had the energy to say “goodnight,” but the color was starting to come back to her face. I assumed that was because of the water Sam made her drink. Once Annabelle was safely in bed, I went to sleep myself.


	23. Sam

Annabelle and Dean had fallen asleep right after we had gotten home, but I couldn’t sleep. Annabelle had come close to death, too close, and I felt like it was my fault. I had convinced Dean to let Annabelle go in alone.

I turned on the TV in a futile attempt to distract myself. Every time I blinked, an image of Annabelle strung up in that dingy basement flashed through my mind. I felt horrible. I know if I tried to apologize to Annabelle or say that it was my fault, she’d come up with something she did wrong and claim it was her fault.

Around three in the morning, Annabelle came down. She wasn’t wearing the jeans and jacket she’d been wearing earlier which was good. The faded hoodie and black sweatpants meant Annabelle had had enough energy to change before she fell asleep.

Annabelle silently crossed the living room. As she got closer to the couch, I could tell her eyes were bloodshot and she had been crying, but when she saw more concern coming into my eyes, she looked at her feet, sat next to me, and pulled her knees to her chest.

I didn’t want to upset Annabelle anymore than she already was so I didn’t say anything. Her breathing was uneven and shaky. Every now and then, Annabelle would sniffle. After a while, I got up and grabbed a cold bottle of water from the fridge. I came back into the living room and knelt in front of Annabelle. Her eyes were glossy with tears and she refused to meet my eyes.

“Are you thirsty?” I asked quietly. Annabelle nodded and took the water. She opened it and took a sip.

“Thanks,” Annabelle whispered.

“No problem. Do you wanna tell me why you’re crying?” I asked and intercepted a tear as it rolled down Annabelle’s cheek.

“I—I miss my family. My parents, my sister, even my annoying little brother. I want them back.” Annabelle put her head on her knees and a silent sob racked her body.

“Annabelle, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what you went through in there, but I know what the djinn did to you,” I said.

“I had to die to get back here! I had to die in front of them!” Annabelle sounded angry. Her hands balled into fists.

“I know. I know what you had to do and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I even convinced Dean to let you go in there alone. It was a bad idea.” I gently put my hand over Annabelle’s fist in an attempt to get her to look up at me.

“It hurts, Sam. It felt like they were really there. I was home.” Annabelle got up and paced the length of the living room. I followed.

“I know what it showed you. It showed you your perfect world. It showed you what you want.” I caught Annabelle’s shoulders as she turned and bent down to meet her eyes. “I’m sorry you got caught. Someone should’ve been in there with you. I should’ve been in there with you,” I said, and Annabelle stopped struggling against me. Annabelle stopped struggling against me. She looked up at me, meeting my eyes for the first time tonight. “I’m sorry.”

“Sam? You convinced Dean to let me go in there?” Annabelle asked. I nodded feeling even more guilty than before.

“I’m sorry,” I repeated.

“Don’t apologize. You trusted me. I failed,” Annabelle said.

“You didn’t fail! You were trying to save that man,” I argued.

“Yeah and I almost died because I let my guard down. It was on me, Sam,” Annabelle said. By the tone of her voice, I could tell there was no way to change her mind.

“Fine, but don’t beat yourself up over it. It happens to the best,” I said.

“Have you been sent to a djinn world?” Annabelle asked quietly.

“No but Dean has,” I answered.

“Was it hard for him to leave too?” Annabelle’s lip quivered and she blinked back tears.

“Yeah, what happened in there?” I asked.

“I had to die to get out. They were all there,” Annabelle said and another sob shook her body. I pulled Annabelle into a hug.

“It’s okay. It was just a dream,” I tried to comfort her.

“I saw it again tonight. It’s like torture,” she cried.

“I know. The nightmares are the worst part of hunting. They’ll pass. I promise,” I said. Annabelle was silent and started calming herself down. I whispered to her that it would be okay until she stopped crying.

“Thank you, Sam. I needed that,” Annabelle said after I let go of her.

“No problem. Are you gonna get some more sleep?” I asked.

“No. I’m not tired anymore.” Annabelle sat back down on the couch.

“Is there anything on that you want to watch?” I asked and sat down next to her.

“No. Not really,” Annabelle said.

We sat in silence for a few hours. Annabelle fell asleep after a while. I smiled at how peaceful she looked and draped one of the blankets she kept downstairs over her. Annabelle slept peacefully for the rest of the night.


	24. Annabelle

Sunday afternoon, Sam and Dean got a call from an old friend asking for help on a case somewhere in Texas. From what I heard it was a particularly big next of vampires. I asked multiple times if I could help. I had some of my strength back and I wanted to stay on the road to keep my mind off of the nightmares I began to have. Sam and Dean insisted they could take care of it. They said the case would take a few weeks and they didn’t want me out of school that long. Dean wanted me to stay home for a few days and go back to school on Wednesday, but I felt fine so I walked to school on Monday.

I started to regret it immediately when I got to school. The walk had drained my energy and I started to look pale again. Friends and teachers kept pulling me aside to ask if I was okay as I made it through the day.

I was walking to my last class carrying a few heavy textbooks. I was doing my best to avoid the rowdy kids in the hall. I felt that if one of them touched me I would fall over. A guy about six inches taller than me with sandy-colored hair, deep blue eyes, and an athletic build came out of nowhere and accidentally bumped my shoulder. I dropped the textbooks and fell forward, catching myself with my hands.

“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” The guy offered me his hand. I took it and he pulled me up. “I’m Dylan. You look really pale. Are you okay?” Dylan asked as he picked up my books.

“I’m Annabelle and I’m fine,” I said a little irritably and tried to take back my books.

“Let me walk you to class.” Dylan moved my books out of my reach.

“You’re going to make yourself late,” I said as the bell rang. Dylan shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter. I have a free period. What’s your last hour?” Dylan asked.

“I’ve got honors writing,” I answered and started walking.

“I see you walking home a lot. Do you have a ride today?” Dylan asked.

“No,” I said.

“Do you need one?” Dylan asked.

“No,” I said emotionlessly.

“If you decide otherwise, just call me. I put my number in your notebook.” Dylan handed me my books.

“Thanks, but I can take care of myself,” I muttered before entering the classroom.

* * *

After school, an old Ford truck pulled up behind me when I was walking home. It was probably a 1950s car and not at all taken care of like the Impala. Rust and dried mud spotted the hood nearly covering the white paint. I ignored the truck and continued walking with my hand on the silver pocketknife I always carried.

A car door slammed shut behind me and Dylan fell into step beside me. I didn’t acknowledge him until he started talking to me.

“Will you please let me give you a ride?” Dylan practically begged.

“I can make it home just fine on my own, thank you,” I said.

“Hey, Annabelle, stop.” Dylan stood in front of me and looked into my eyes. “You’re obviously sick or hurt or something. Let me help.”

The concern in Dylan’s eyes made me melt. It reminded me of the worry that used to glitter in my parents’ eyes whenever I had gotten myself into trouble.

“Fine.” I allowed Dylan to lead me to the truck.

A woman in her early twenties with shoulder length blonde hair and the same blue eyes as Dylan sat in the driver’s seat. She wore three or four layers of clothing: a black leather jacket that loosely fit her, a faded olive green hoodie under that, a grey T-shirt, and I presumed she wore a tank top under the other layers. Well worn blue jeans and dusty brown cowgirl boots led me to assume she worked or lived on a farm.

Dylan tossed my bag into the bed of the truck and climbed into the truck before me. I slid into the shotgun seat and closed the door. The cracked brown leather of the seat reminded me of a school bus’s seats.

“Hey. I’m Marina, Dylan’s older sister,” Marina spoke with the same barely noticeable southern drawl most Nebraska-born people spoke with. She reached across Dylan and offered to shake my hand.

“I’m Annabelle. Nice to meet you.” I forced a smile and shook Marina’s hand, taking note of the way her hands were callused.

The placement of the calluses weren’t like those of a farmer. They were in the same place as the calluses on my hands from handling the guns and knives I used while hunting.

“Same.” Marina smiled warmly. “Where am I dropping you off?”

“2300 Antelope Way, please.” I returned the warm smile.

“That’s not far from where we live,” Dylan noted.

“What a coincidence.” I tried to sound a little enthusiastic.

The car fell silent and Marina pulled back onto the road. I thanked Marina and Dylan for the ride then went inside. I was exhausted and crashed on the couch.

* * *

Loud knocking at the door woke me up. I quickly opened it hoping Sam and Dean were home early from their case. Instead, I found myself face to face with Dylan. He was holding a plastic container, I guessed with food in it.

The sun was starting to set so I guessed it was around eight.

“Did I wake you up?” Dylan asked an apologetic look on his face.

“Yeah,” I replied. I let Dylan inside.

“Have you eaten?” Dylan asked after he looked around the living room.

“I wasn’t planning to. I’m really tired,” I muttered.

“My sister made you some food. Will you let me take care of you for a while?” Dylan asked. I sighed.

“Sure.” I led Dylan into the dining room. One of my sawed-offs was on the table and I lunged to move it before Dylan could see.

“Are you a hunter?” Dylan asked.

“It depends. What kind of hunter do you mean? Animals or . . . something else?” I asked. Dylan cleared his throat.

“Monsters,” Dylan said quietly.

“Then, yes. Are you?” I asked. Dylan nodded.

“What happened?” Dylan asked and set the container on the table.

“Djinn got me,” I said.

“How long did it have you?” Dylan asked.

“Two days,” I answered.

“How long ago?” Dylan looked sympathetic.

“Sam and Dean got me out Friday,” I said.

“Sam and Dean Winchester?” Dylan asked.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” I asked.

“They’re famous in the hunter world. I heard they’d taken someone in . . . Sorry to hear about your family,” Dylan said. I had a sudden interest in the table.

“It’s okay. They’re in heaven now,” I said quietly.

“Hey, sit down, eat,” Dylan said. He found the plates and cups and served me. Whenever I tried to do something to help out, Dylan sat me back down and took care of it for me. He left me his and Marina’s phone number and said to call if I needed anything. Dylan and I started to take care of each other after that night. If either of us needed help on a hunt, we would call each other and I was grateful for Dylan’s company.


	25. Dean

The hunter who’d called us to Texas had fled the town leaving the nest to me and Sam. We were picking off vampires three or four every night and I expected to be home in a week if all went well. Wednesday night, we found a vamp that liked to talk. She claimed her name was Beth. Sam thought she could be useful so we tied her up and started to grill her overnight. We had the upper-hand until she caught me by surprise.

“Where’s Annabelle?” Beth asked.

“Excuse me?” I said.

“Where’s the girl? I smell her on both of you,” Beth said as if it made perfect sense. Sam swooped in, seeing my confusion.

“What would it matter to you?” Sam asked.

“You two don’t know? With that angel always handing around you, I would think he told you.” Beth smirked.

“Don’t know what?” I asked. Beth laughed.

“Little Annabelle’s got a big role to play in heaven,” Beth said.

“Why are you looking for her?” Sam asked.

“They put out a good price for her. Do you even know where she is?” Beth asked.

I panicked a bit inside, but I didn’t let it show. _Where is Annabelle? I haven’t heard from her since Monday and that was just a quick text._ The sound of Sam’s machete cutting off Beth’s head snapped me out of my thoughts. Sam met my eyes and nodded.

“Call. Make sure she’s alright. I’ll take care of the body,” Sam said.

I nodded a thanks and went outside. I hit speed dial and paced the length of the building. I anxiously waited for Annabelle to pick up.

“Dean? Is everything okay?” Annabelle asked. I felt some tension leave my shoulders.

“Everything’s okay here. Are you alright?” I asked. I heard Annabelle let out a relieved sigh.

“I’m fine, why?” Annabelle asked.

“I just wanted to check in on you. Have you been back to school yet?” I asked.

“Yeah, I went back Monday,” Annabelle said.

“You’re feeling better?” I asked.

“For the most part,” Annabelle said.

“Good, hey, listen, Sam and I are gonna call someone else in and leave this case tomorrow. We’ll be home tomorrow night. I want you to stay home tomorrow,” I said.

“Why? What’s going on, Dean?” Annabelle asked, worry seeping into her voice.

“Safety reasons. Just stay home and stay safe, alright?” I said.

“Dean! What’s going on? I can take care of myself!” Annabelle’s worry turned to frustration.

“I’ll explain when I get there. Please don’t go anywhere,” I said.

Annabelle sighed. “Fine. It had better be a good reason.” She hung up.

“Did you piss her off?” Sam’s voice behind me surprised me.

“She’ll get over it. She just wanted to know what was going on. I wouldn’t tell her. We’re heading out tomorrow morning,” I said.

“Do you want me to drive?” Sam asked.

“Sure.” I tossed Sam the Impala’s keys and got in the car.


	26. Sam

Annabelle texted me multiple times on the way home begging me to tell her what was going on. Each time, I replied that we would be home soon and we would explain it then. Dean called Cass and told him to watch out for Annabelle and keep her safe. From then on, he was silent.

One of Dean’s Metallica albums filled the heavy silence that sat between us. I anxiously waited for Dean to get bored of the scenery and begin to talk, but he stayed quiet.

Dean’s solemn mood was scaring me. He hadn’t been like this since Cass had betrayed him. I knew he was afraid for Annabelle and he was trying to think of any angel that was still alive who didn’t like “free-will” and wanted to put the apocalypse back on track.

“We’ll stop them, Dean,” I said after an hour of silence.

“We don’t even know who they are,” Dean said in a monotone voice.

“We’ll find out,” I said.

“What if they find Annabelle before we can find them?” Dean asked.

“All we can do is be there to protect her,” I answered.

“From the angels?” Dean asked.

“Yes. We can do that. We need to talk to Cass and find out what’s going on.” I said.

“Whatever. Let’s just focus on getting to her for now,” Dean said and the car fell silent.

The car ride back to Lincoln was long and boring. The scenery switched between dry, grey prairies and lush, green fields. The only interruptions in the flat earth were the occasional tree and small hill. “Hill” wasn’t the right word. They were small mounds of dirt that stuck out a little. We passed a few cattle farms which made me glad I had eaten a salad when we stopped for lunch instead of the huge bacon cheese burger Dean had eaten. I read through _The Hobbit_ for the tenth time since I was twelve on the ride.

When we got back to the house, Annabelle was sitting on the stairs in the front with her arms crossed and she looked angry. Cass was standing above her. As I got closer, I realized Annabelle’s eyes were the same stormy grey they were when she talked about the wendigo or anything that had hurt Dean or me. It wasn’t a look I wanted to get from her. She glared at Dean and I and I shifted my weight.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” she growled. Dean looked from Cass to Annabelle.

“Uh, he wasn’t babysitting?” Dean asked the sentence more that said it. I sat back and tried to stay out of it.

“Really because he told me that you told him to come watch me. I’m completely capable of taking care of myself, Dean!” Annabelle said.

“He’s not saying he doesn’t trust you,” I said.

“Oh, really? Tell me again, Sam, why did you two come home?” Annabelle asked, turning her anger on me.

“Uh, well . . .” I thought for a moment.

“Not yet, Sam,” Dean said.

“See? You two don’t trust me, do you?” Annabelle said.

“No, we trust you. You just don’t need to know right now,” Dean said.

“If you trust me, tell me, God damn it!” Annabelle yelled.

“Annabelle, you might be putting yourself in danger if you know,” I said.

“What more danger could I be put in? I’m already a hunter!” Annabelle said.

“You don’t know most of the angels. Annabelle, please,” Dean pleaded.

“Whatever. I’m having a friend over tonight. Hide your weapons,” Annabelle said and went inside. She did her best to ignore us and keep her distance all day and the next day while her friend was over.

Whenever Dean or I tried to approach her, she would simply roll her eyes and walk away. Dean was getting frustrated with himself and Annabelle so naturally he took all emotion out of whatever he was doing and was almost completely silent for days.


	27. Annabelle

I was still furious with Dean for not telling me what was going on. Whatever it was, it was obviously big and I needed to know. I had been avidly grilling Sam, but getting nowhere. Finally, a week after Sam and Dean had gotten home, a demon case came up in town. I thought maybe if I convinced Dean to work the case with me, I could distract him enough to let the truth slip out.

Sadly, my idea didn’t work on either Sam or Dean. Both said we should let another hunter, maybe Dylan and Marina, take the case and we needed to avoid attracting attention to ourselves.

But I was tired of hearing about the young girls’ deaths so I decided to take the case on my own. It looked to me like the demon was working solo, picking girls off at a bar. I figured out his pattern quickly and prepared a bag of weapons I would need for that night while Sam and Dean were out at the store figuring I would sneak out that night.

Around midnight, I heard Dean go to his room and go to bed. It was a Friday night so he didn’t bother to ask why I was up so late. I waited an hour before sneaking out of the window and silently sliding off of the roof. I landed gently on the sidewalk and ran to the bar.

I snuck in using a fake ID Sam and Dean had made me for cases that involved me being eighteen and over. I found the demon surrounded by women lusting over him. I decided that would be the easiest way to lure him out of the bar, so I acted drunk and flirted until he took me out back, promising to give me a “show.” Once in the alley, I pulled out the demon knife. Unfortunately, the demon was a good fifteen feet in front of me. He seemed to be unarmed so I figured I had a shot.

I ran at him and he pulled out a gun. _Too late to turn back now,_ I thought and continued running at him. Just before I reached the demon, he fired a shot into the left side of my chest just below my collar bone and a few inches above my breast. The bullet ripped into me and I yelped. The pain was worse that anything I had felt before. I felt blood begin to gush out of the wound and soak the front of my shirt.

I quickly stabbed the demon and watched it fall to the ground before dropping the knife and falling to my knees. I wanted to lie down there and give up, but I knew I couldn’t. I had to get back home. If I died here, Sam and Dean would kill me. Heck, they’d probably kill me when I got home anyhow. I felt the blood that had already accumulated on the front of my shirt begin to cool. I pulled my jacket off, crumbled it into a ball, and pressed it to the bullet wound letting out a groan as I did so.

Luckily, the bar was only half a mile from the house, but I knew I couldn’t make it that far nor did I want to face Sam and Dean just yet. Dylan’s house was closer to the bar so I got up and started stumbling there.

By the time I reached Dylan’s house, blood had soaked through my jacket and I could barely hold myself up. I reached the door and knocked as loud as possible. The last time my hand hit the door, my knees buckled and my hand slid down the door as I fell, leaving lines of blood where my hand was.

Lights flicked on in the house and I heard someone running downstairs. Seconds later, Dylan opened the door. His hair was a mess and he looked half asleep until he saw me. His blue eyes widene3d and he rushed beside me. Dylan put an arm around my waist and pulled my right arm around his shoulders. Dylan pulled me up and got me inside.

“How’d this happen?” Dylan asked worry finding its way into his voice. He sat me down on the couch and moved my hand and the jacket to see the wound.

“I guess the demon was too fast for me,” I said.

“You were hunting alone?” Dylan asked. He pressed a clean washcloth to the bullet hole and I yelped quietly as he applied pressure.

“Yes. The case needed my attention and—,” I stopped to groan, “—and Sam and Dean wouldn’t help.”

“Hold this here. I’ll go get Marina,” Dylan said and replaced his hand on the washcloth with mine. “Got it?”

I nodded and watched Dylan run upstairs. I tried to control my breathing and heartbeat, but adrenaline was still pumping strong through my veins. After a few minutes, Dylan came back downstairs followed by Marina whose hair was also a mess. She was holding a metallic box I knew was a medical kit. Marina pushed Dylan out of the way and came to me.

“Hey, how are you doing?” Marina asked as she sat next to me.

“I’m in a lot of pain,” I answered and eyed the medical kit.

“All right. Let’s get you taken care of,” Marina said gently.

Marina took my hand and the washcloth away from the bullet wound. She eyed it, cut away part of my shirt and set to work getting the bullet out of me. I struggled to keep from screaming and Dylan stepped forward. He put his hand on mine. I looked up at him.

“Go ahead,” Dylan said, seeing my confusion.

I took his hand and squeezed tightly as Marina began to take the bullet out. After Marina got it out she put a couple of stitches in the wound and taped some gauze over it.

“I’ll go wash my hands and get you something to take for it,” Marina said. I let go of Dylan’s hand and nodded.

Marina left the room and Dylan sat on the couch next to me. I took a shaky breath.

“Feel any better?” Dylan asked.

“Not really. Can I stay here for the night?” I asked.

“Yeah. I wasn’t gonna let you go home anyway,” Dylan said.

“Do you think Marina has some clothes I can borrow?” I asked.

“Yeah. We’ll get you some clothes and into bed after you take the pain meds.” Dylan said. As if on cue, Marina came back into the living room with a glass of water and a bottle of ibueprophen.

“Take four of these. When was the last time you ate?” Marina asked and poured four of the pills into my hand. I took them before answering her question.

“This afternoon; it was school lunch,” I muttered and downed some more water.

“Will you eat something real quick?” Marina asked.

“Why?” I asked.

“So you’re not taking the pills on an empty stomach,” Marina answered.

“Yeah. Sure. I’ll eat,” I said.

“Marina got a granola bar for me. I ate it quickly. The ibueprophen was starting to make me drowsy. I just wanted to sleep.

“Can I go to bed now?” I asked.

“Yes. Dylan, will you take her upstairs?” Marina asked.

“No problem,” Dylan said. He helped me upstairs and got me a pair of shorts and T-shirt from Marina’s room. I managed to change and let Dylan help me get comfortable. I closed my eyes after Dylan wished me a good night. Immediately, images of tonight and Sam and Dean’s worried expressions haunted me. When I opened my eyes, they were tear-filled.

“Dylan?” I asked quietly before the door was completely closed. Dylan opened the door again.

“Yeah?” Concern seeped through Dylan’s calm tone.

“Stay?” I asked.

“Yeah. I’ve got soccer practice tomorrow. Do you mind if I sleep in here?” Dylan asked.

“No. Be my guest,” I said. Dylan flicked the lights off and crawled into bed next to me.

I moved closer to Dylan. I put my head on his chest and he put an arm around me. Dylan lightly kissed the top of my head and I fell asleep.

* * *

When I woke up, I was alone. Sunlight streamed gently through the window. I slowly got up and made my way downstairs. Every step I took jolted pain through my chest. I found Marina on the couch in the living room with a cup of coffee watching the news.

“How are you feeling, Annabelle?” Marina asked when she saw me.

“Sore, but I’m fine. You?” I asked and sat down in a leather-covered arm chair. I scanned the Breaking News description and the crime scene the news crew was looking at. I knew almost immediately that it was the scene I’d left behind the night before.

“A little worn out. Police found blood behind the bar where those women were killed. No bodies, they’re expecting another to show up,” Marina said. She knew I’d been there last night.

“What happened to the demon’s body? I left it there last night.” I said.

“Dylan and I cleaned it up for you this morning before I dropped him off at practice,” Marina said.

“I owe you another one. Thank you so much.” I sighed.

“Don’t mention it. I’ll take you home after I pick Dylan up, okay?” Marina asked.

“Yeah, that sounds great. Have you talked to Sam and Dean?” I asked.

“No, why? Do they know where you are?” Marina asked.

“Uh, yeah,” I lied.

* * *

Marina brought me home after picking Dylan up like she said. Dylan insisted on staying with me. Neither of us had said a word about the night before. I had gotten up to get some water and I heard Dylan follow me. He stopped in the doorway and watched me grab a class and start to fill it with water. He came up behind me and slowly, cautiously wrapped his arms around my waist. I put the water on the counter and turned to face Dylan. I snaked my right arm around his neck and relaxed in his arms.

“Does this mean we’re together?” I asked quietly, almost fearing the answer. I wanted to be with Dylan. He was sweet, compassionate, and I knew I could trust him. I didn’t know if her felt the same about me.

“Depends. Do you want us to be together?” Dylan asked. In response, I pulled myself onto my tiptoes and lightly kissed Dylan.

“I would like it a lot. Do you want to be together?” I asked nervously. Dylan nodded and pulled me into a slow, sweet kiss.

“Yes,” he whispered when he pulled away.

Dylan stayed for a few hours with me before Sam and Dean came home. Dean basically chased Dylan out while Sam looked over my injury. Dean turned furiously to me.

“What were you thinking?!” Dean’s voice was barely below a yell.

“Those murders needed to stop and you weren’t going to help me?” I said calmly.

“Annabelle, what if you’d been killed? What would I—? What would we have done?” Dean said indicating Sam and himself. I felt a ping of guilt.

“Dean… I didn’t think of it that way. I’m sorry.” My voice grew quiet and Dean’s grew louder.

“Of course you didn’t! What’s been with you lately?” Dean asked.

“I can ask you the same! I need to know what’s going on so I can help! You two don’t need to carry everything on your own now! I’m here for you! So talk to me!” I said, new anger in my voice. With that Dean sunk back a little and didn’t look as tough. Sam looked astonished with my statement though his eyes softened toward me as he looked between Dean and me.

Poor Sam clearly didn’t want to be brought into this. He had been trying to bring peace between us all week and I could see him desperately racking his mined for anything to say to stop the argument.

“Not yet,” Dean said in a soft voice.

“Why not?” I asked.

“We aren’t sure if it’s a legitimate threat,” Sam said.

“How do you expect to find out? What if I know something you don’t?” I asked.

“We’ll cross—”

“If you say that one more time, Dean—!”

“Stop! Both of you! If what we think is going on is actually happening, then we need to stick together! We can’t split up or be arguing right now,” Sam said.

Dean and I glared at each other for a few moments while Sam’s statement sunk in. Dean’s tense shoulders relaxed a bit and some of the anger left his eyes. He looked me over now with more worry and guilt than anger. Seeing this made me feel horrible. I didn’t want Sam or Dean to put this over their heads. It was my fault.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly.

“Don’t be. Sam and I should’ve helped you,” Dean said. “I’m sorry.”

“Dean, I snuck out. This is on me. You can’t always be there to protect me.” I said.

“Let’s just forget it. Let me see that wound,” Dean said.

I pulled my sleeve down a little and Sam and Dean looked over the wound and how well Marina had fixed it up. We talked for a while about what we were going to do about going to school and consequences for sneaking out. When we agreed on what to do, Sam and Dean urged me to get some more rest. I did what they asked and slept a little better than I would have if I hadn’t come home.


	28. Dean

Annabelle had taken my advice and gone to get some more sleep, but that was just to get her out of the room so Sam and I could talk to Cass. If the angels wanted to get to Annabelle so badly that they were asking for monsters’ help, Cass would have to know about it. Annabelle’s injury would keep her out of the field for a while and hopefully keep her from asking me any more questions. I loved the kid like she was my own and I absolutely hated keeping something this big from her, but I knew we had to—for the time being, at least.

Sam summoned Cass once we were sure Annabelle was asleep. It looked like we caught him at a bad time. Cass’s trench coat was splattered with blood and he was holding his sword at a ready position. Before he could say or do anything, Sam disarmed him without making a sound and put a finger to his lips. Cass looked as if he wanted to protest but said nothing.

“What happened to you, Cass?” I asked.

“Heaven is locked in a civil war,” Cass said.

“Another one?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” Cass said.

“Raphael?” I asked.

“No,” Cass said.

“Then who?” I asked. 

“Zoë. She took Raphael’s place and has a formidable army against me. Where is Annabelle? Have they found her?” Cass said and glanced around the room.

“She’s resting. Kid had a long night. Who’s Zoë?” I said.

“Zoë as in Zophiel?” Sam asked.

“Yes. Metatron’s assistant,” Cass said.

“Well, are we going to stop her?” I asked.

“I am doing everything in my power,” Cass said.

“Can we help you in any way?” Sam asked.

“Just keep Annabelle safe,” Cass said.

“What if they find her?” I asked.

“I won’t let them. They are closing in using me. I must go.” With that Castiel disappeared.

Sam and I spent a while strengthening our angel warding after Cass left. Annabelle slept throughout the rest of the day and would have slept overnight if Sam and I hadn’t woken her for dinner. I was relieved she didn’t ask any questions, but the poor kid was in a lot of pain. She winced every time she moved and her energy level was a lot lower than it usually was even with all the extra sleep. I knew it would take a little more than a month for Annabelle to get back to normal and she hated that she wouldn’t be able to hunt for that long, but I assured her it would be worth it.


	29. Sam

Around Christmas time, Annabelle was acting more like herself but she was getting a little homesick. She started talking about memories of the holidays at home or little things her family used to do that used to mean nothing but now mean the world to her. She spent a lot of time alone in her room so Dean and I thought it would be nice to try to make Christmas for her.

We already knew Annabelle was planning to make a holiday dinner and buy Dean and I gifts. Dean insisted that there wasn’t anything he wanted but Annabelle grilled me for anything I thought Dean wanted. I told her I didn’t want anything, but I’m sure she grilled Dean for anything I could possibly want.

Christmas approached and Annabelle did her shopping. I didn’t know what she got either of us, but I knew she spent a lot of time thinking about it. The day before Christmas Eve, Annabelle slept over at a friend’s house giving Dean and I time to decorate the house and figure out what to get her.

Dean went out to get Annabelle’s gift while I decorated the tree and some of the living room. Dean came home with a few flamethrowers and a handwritten note. He came in humming a Christmas song and smiling proudly.

“What’s got you so happy?” I asked.

“Come see what we got Annabelle,” Dean said and waved me over to the table we had set up in the dining room. He laid out the flamethrowers and note on the table and beamed at me.

“What are you planning?” I asked a little worried for the answer.

“Read the note,” Dean said with a grin. I opened the note and read aloud.

“'Dear Annabelle, It’s been a long time since you’ve mentioned Colorado or going home. We caught wind of more information on the wendigo case and it’s time we go back to take care of it. Once you’re healed, we’ll go back to Colorado and get you vengeance for your family. Love, Sam and Dean,’” I read. “Dean, are you sure about this?”

“Yeah. Kid deserves to have some closure. It’s been long enough.” Dean crossed his arms. “Unless you have a better idea.”

“I don’t.” I sighed. “Colorado it is.”

* * *

When Annabelle came home, she nearly began to cry. She looked around the living room and then tackled Dean and me with a hug.

“Whoa, kid,” Dean said before hugging Annabelle back.

“This is amazing, you two! How did you manage this?” Annabelle asked as she pulled away from Dean and me to look around the room again.

“Who said hunters can’t celebrate Christmas?” I smiled.

“No one. I just didn’t think you two did,” Annabelle said.

“We thought it might cheer you up a little. Merry Christmas!” Dean said.

“Thank you,” Annabelle whispered and took in the room again.

We spent Christmas Eve laughing and enjoying each others’ company. Annabelle spent all day Christmas making a huge dinner for the three of us. Dean tried to steal some food a few times and Annabelle chased him out before he could get anything. We decided to wait until dinner time to open presents. When it was time, Annabelle gave Dean and me our presents first. Dean opened his and was overjoyed to find a mix-tape of all of his favorite songs for the Impala. Annabelle gave me a copy of my favorite book. We thanked her before giving Annabelle her present. She was overjoyed and thanked us for days afterwards.


	30. Annabelle

We were ready to head to Colorado the next week on New Year’s Day. We had everything packed up and ready to go with the exception of my bag around seven that morning. Dylan stopped by to say goodbye to me. I tossed my duffel in the trunk of the Impala. When I turned around, Dylan pulled me into a hug.

“How long will you be gone?” Dylan asked quietly.

“It shouldn’t take more than a week,” I said.

“Be careful,” Dylan said.

“Sam and Dean have my back. I’ll be fine,” I said.

“Okay. You and I are going to go have a nice dinner so you can tell me what happened,” Dylan said and kissed me. We didn’t let go until Dean honked the horn.

“We’ve gotta go, Annabelle!” Dean yelled.

I pulled away from Dylan, gave him a quick hug, and said goodbye one last time. I threw my bag in the trunk and got in the Impala. We drove off with a feeling of eerie calm in the car and on the road.

When we got to Colorado, Sam and Dean checked us into a little motel not far from my old home. They got file pictures for all of the victims including my family and went to sleep. They had taken turns driving, but the icy mountain roads had tested their reflexes and their tempers. They needed the rest.

The snow storm was getting worse and I expected at least six inches of snow the next morning. I stayed up all night scrutinizing the files and marking where the killings happened in an attempt to locate the wendigo’s location. The killings circled around a secluded part of the mountains that used to have a mining town. I guess that made sense considering a landslide had closed the mine and trapped a few foreign workers. No one cared enough to dig them out so they ran out of supplies and died in the town. It’s completely possible one or more of them resorted to cannibalism.

I stopped briefly to drink down a cup of coffee then continued working on pinpointing the wendigo’s location. When morning came, I had a pretty good idea of where the wendigo was and where it would strike next. I woke Sam and Dean and we go ready and on the road as fast as possible.

It took about an hour to get to the town. Once there, we found the wendigo. It should have been easy to burn the thing, but it was fast and illusive. We stood in the middle of the town and waited.

“Annabelle, are you sure—?”

“Dean! Look out!” I yelled when the wendigo appeared behind Dean.

Dean whirled around with his flamethrower at ready then the scenery changed. I was standing in a room with dark green walls. It was nearly silent besides the slight click-click-click of the keys on a computer keyboard behind me. I stayed still trying to figure out what happened and where I was. The typing stopped.

“Oh, good, you’re here. Come now, dear. Sit down. We only have so much time,” a woman’s velvety voice said behind me. She had a slight accent. I turned to see a beautiful Hispanic woman sitting at an elaborate wooden desk. She stared expectantly at me from behind her laptop. “Well? Are you going to come sit down or stand there and gape at me?”

“How did I get here?” I asked and inched toward the desk.

“I brought you here. Now, sit. I don’t bite,” the woman said. I sat at the desk in front of the woman. She closed her computer.

“Why am I here?” I asked.

“We’ve got some business to discuss. First thing’s first. I’m Zoë and you’re the infamous Annabelle Winchester. How are you, dear?” Zoë said.

“I’m, uh, I guess I’m okay. What are you?” I said.

“Now, Annabelle, that’s no way to talk to your new guardian,” Zoë scolded.

“Guardian?!” My eyes widened. “No, I’m not staying with you! I’m leaving! I’m going back to Sam and Dean!” I got up and headed for the door.

“Annabelle, you don’t know where you are. You don’t know where they are. Dear, you don’t even know if they’re alive,” Zoë said coolly and I froze. “Come sit down and talk with me. I promise I’ll get you home to them safe and sound.”

“Zoë, right? Where am I?” I asked and sat back down.

“Heaven, dear. What has your friend Castiel told you about the war in heaven?” Zoë asked.

“Heaven’s still at war? I thought that ended after Raphael died,” I said. Despite how hard I tried to keep my voice neutral and calm, surprise and some fear found its way into my voice.

“This is the same war, just with a different leader,” Zoë said.

“What do I have to do with it? What do you want with me?” I asked.

“You’re the key to winning the war. See, Castiel has you convinced that he is fighting the good war, but, dear, my side of the war is only trying to help humanity. Wouldn’t you like to see your family again, Annabelle? Wouldn’t you like to live with them again?” Zoë said.

“Not right now. I like being on the road. I was getting my revenge. I was getting ready to move on and you know what? It felt good to be finally getting that regret and remorse off of my chest! You took me away from that! Why would I ever trust you?” I said and stood up.

“Oh my, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry. I didn’t know how else to get a hold of you with those sigils on your ribs.” Zoë stood and came around the desk and to me. She gently hooked her finger under my chin and made me look up at her. I smacked her hand away and moved across the room.

“Stay away from me!” I yelled.

“Annabelle, please calm down. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to keep you safe. Don’t you see that?” Zoë said.

“You don’t want to keep me safe and if you did, it would only be so you could use me. No. You cannot use me in any way in this stupid angel war. Leave me alone. Take me home!” I said.

“I can’t take you home. Dear, you have to help me with this. I need you,” Zoë said. She sounded sincere enough.

“No. You don’t need me and if you’re turning to a teenage human for help, you must be pretty desperate. You see, free will always wins. No one wants the apocalypse. No one wants Lucifer to rise. You will always lose,” I said.

“Now, Annabelle, I’ve been very patient with you. I’m beginning to lose that patience,” Zoë said.

“Quit talking to me like I’m some five year old! I know what I’m talking about and I’m perfectly capable of making my own choices. I don’t need a damn angel to tell me what to do!” I screamed. I pounded at the door trying to get it open, but it wouldn’t budge. “Let me go!” The air around me smelled of ozone and got hotter.

“All right, dear. As you wish. This will not be our last talk, darling,” Zoë said. I turned the door knob and the door opened. I stepped outside and blacked out.


	31. Dean

I burned the wendigo and turned around to see if Annabelle was okay. There was no sign of her. Sam ran into the little town square and looked at me. He looked around no doubt expecting to see Annabelle then looked back at me.

“Where’s Annabelle?” Sam asked.

“I don’t know. She was right here. She wouldn’t run off, would she?” I said.

“No . . . I don’t think so,” Sam said.

“Split up. Take the western half of the town. I’ll take the east. Meet back here,” I said. Sam nodded and headed back to search his part of the town. I did the same. “Annabelle!” I yelled as I searched. The only responses I got were my voice echoing off of the mountain side and the faint sound of Sam yelling for Annabelle.

I didn’t find anything to indicate Annabelle had run or been taken. I searched every building in my half of the town and some of the surrounding wilderness. I came up empty handed, and I went back to the town square to meet Sam. He came back alone, too.

“There’s no trace of her that way. Did you find anything?” Sam said.

“No. Let’s go talk to the police and tell them to watch out for her,” I said.

“Dean, do you think this is an angel thing?” Sam asked.

“Maybe, but they won’t kill her if it is. We’ll call Cass and see if he knows anything after we talk to the police. We’ll talk to Bobby and our other contacts. We’ll have enough eyes out to find her,” I said, though I was more trying to convince myself.

With that, Sam and I got in the Impala and drove back to town in an ominous silence. If Zoë had taken Annabelle, she wouldn’t hurt Annabelle. Zoë needed Annabelle. She’d be okay, right? I wasn’t sure. I couldn’t do anything to help. When we got to the police station, Sam and I were taken straight to the sheriff to file our report.

“What seems to be the problem?” the sheriff asked.

“My daughter disappeared. My brother and I were camping with her. We turned around for two seconds and she was gone,” I said. My voice quivered and I felt tears well in my eyes.

“Come sit down, sir. We’ll find her; don’t worry.” The sheriff took out some paper and a pencil. “What’s her name?”

“Annabelle,” I said.

“Where was she last seen?” the sheriff asked.

“We were camping in the abandoned mining town in the town square,” Sam said.

“How old is she?” the sheriff asked.

“She’s thirteen. Here’s a picture of her,” I said and pulled up a picture of Annabelle on my phone to show the sheriff. He looked it over and looked cautiously back at me.

“No! Annabelle wouldn’t run from us!” I said. Sam put a hand on my shoulder.

“Annabelle’s family was killed last year. Dean adopted her. We’re all she has left. We’re her family. She’s happy with us,” Sam said.

“All right. I’m sorry. It’s a standard question. I have to ask,” the sheriff said. “When was the last time you saw Annabelle?”

“Almost three and a half hours ago now. Look, Sheriff . . .?”

“Call me Dave.”

“Sheriff Dave, It’s really cold out there. Her clothes weren’t waterproof. We’re losing time,” I said.

“We’ll get a team out there as soon as we can. What were you doing in that old mining town anyway?” sheriff Dave asked.

“We were camping like we said. Annabelle had had a hard time with the holidays, as you’d expect, and she wanted to get away from towns and Christmas decorations for a while. She asked for me to come with her and Dean. She was having a good time,” Sam said.

“Okay. Thank you, boys. We’ll get her back to you as soon as we find her. Stay in town,” Sheriff Dave said.

“Yes, sir. You can find us at the Cardinal Hotel,” Sam said.

“Okay. My boys and I will head out to look for her right now.” Sheriff Dave said.

Sam and I went back to the hotel and called everyone we know telling them to keep an eye out for Annabelle. A week went by and no one, not even Cass, had found any trace of Annabelle.


	32. Sam

After a week passed, the town had almost given up on finding Annabelle. Dean and I hadn’t found anything to help us find her either. The lakes and streams were still frozen over and more snow had fallen since Annabelle had disappeared. I hoped she was safe wherever she was. Late on January ninth, Dean shook me awake.

“Sam! Sammy! Get up! Pack your things! Bobby’s got a lead on Annabelle!” Dean said. He sounded both worried and excited.

“What? Where?” I asked as I got out of bed and started picking up my things.

“Sioux Falls Memorial Hospital. They’ve got a Jane Doe fitting Annabelle’s description according to Sheriff Mills,” Dean said. His voice grew grim. I froze.

“Dead?” I asked. My heart leapt to my throat and it was the only word I could manage.

“No, but she’s in critical condition,” Dean said. I sighed in relief, but then my heart sank.

“What do they think happened?” I asked. I finished packing and we got in the Impala.

“They think it was a hit and run. She was found in the middle of the road. Multiple broken bones. Luckily, the only injury is a mild concussion,” Dean said.

“Okay, that’s good, I guess,” I said. The headlights fell on a woman on the side of the road struggling to get back to town through the storm. We quickly passed her and kept going. “Did she look familiar?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know. Forget it. We just need to focus on getting to Sioux Falls,” Dean said.

* * *

When we got to the hospital, we were told we couldn’t go into the room, but we could look in from the windows. The girl could have been Annabelle’s twin, but there was only one way to tell.

“Sheriff Mills, can you go in and look at the inside of her left ankle? There should be a tattoo there,” I said.

“Yeah, no problem.” Sheriff Mills went to get a doctor to go in with her.

“How’d you idjits manage to lose her anyway?” Bobby asked.

“I turned around for two seconds, and she was gone. I hope to God this is her and she’s not out there freezing somewhere,” Dean said.

“You boys had better just find her,” Bobby said.

“We will, Bobby. Don’t worry,” I said.

“Fingers crossed,” Sheriff Mills said as she and a doctor went into the room. She lifted the sheet and looked at the girl’s ankle. Sheriff Mills shook her head and came back out of the room. “No dice. Sorry, boys.”

“It’s all right. Thanks for trying,” I said. Dean looked devastated. We went out to the Impala.

“So, what now?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know,” I said.

Dean and I sat in silence for a while before my phone rang. I didn’t recognize the number. Dean stared at me expectantly.

“Hello?” I said as I picked up.

“Sam? We found Annabelle,” Sheriff Dave said.

“Really? Is she okay? Can I talk to her?” I asked the questions in rapid succession.

“She’s resting right now, but she’s fine. You weren’t in town. We need you to come get Annabelle,” Sheriff Dave said.

“Yeah, of course. We’ll be there in a few days. Thank you, Sheriff!” I said and hung up. “Go back to Colorado. They found her.”


	33. Annabelle

I woke up in the same clearing I remembered being in last. A thin layer of frost covered my skin. No one was there, and there was no sign of the Impala. I pulled myself out of the snow and went into one of the more sturdy-looking buildings. I sighed contently at the small amount of warmth the shelter gave me. I took out my cell phone and hoped it wasn’t frozen. Unfortunately, it was.

My first priority was getting warm and dry. I gathered some wood and began a small fire in the old fireplace. I stripped down to the tank top and shorts I wore under a hoodie, a T-shirt, and durable jeans. I took off my soaked and frozen shoes and double-layer of socks and hung all of my clothes by the fire to dry. Then I laid down close to the fire and let its warmth envelope me. Eventually, the warmth made me drowsy, and I fell asleep. Dreams soon found me.

Flashes of nightmares I’d been having for weeks ran through my mind: myself alone on a bloody battlefield; a room full of bodies, and me standing over them with wings on my back and my eyes glowing brilliant blue; Sam, Dean, and I standing by the side of the road with me standing over them, a gun to their heads. The last image was of the building I was sleeping in. I saw myself sleeping peacefully in front of the fire. In an instant, the fire reached for me like a wrathful hand. I woke screaming, but safe.

I got myself as calm as I could, got dressed, and stepped outside into the cold Colorado air. I felt drained of any energy I had before I fell asleep. My face was warmer than it should have been, I felt slightly dizzy when I stood, my arms, hand and legs felt cold, and I kept sneezing and coughing. The best thing I could do for myself was get to the town we had been staying in. As I walked, worry began to build in my chest. What happened to Sam and Dean? Were they okay? Was I the only survivor of another wendigo attack? What had happened to me?

The sound of a familiar car heading my way snapped me out of my thoughts. I saw the Impala heading towards me with Sam and Dean in the front seat. I waved frantically, but they drove right past me. My spirits fell again and I began to walk again. After a few hours, I reached the edge of the town. I heard sirens and a police car pulled up behind me. I went to the driver’s side window.

“Are you Annabelle?” the officer asked.

“Yeah, why?” I asked.

“The whole town’s been looking for you for two weeks. Get in the car. We’ll get you back to our dad and uncle,” the officer said.

“I’m sorry, how long?” I asked. I sneezed. The officer got out of the car and wrapped a blanket around me.

“Don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s get you back to town,” the officer said and got me in the car.

Despite the long ride to the city hospital and all of the blankets the nurses wrapped around me, I couldn’t stop shivering. The doctor told me it was because of a mild case of hypothermia. The hospital staff quickly got some fluids into me and fed me a full meal. They frequently checked to make sure I was comfortable. The next day, the town’s sheriff came into the room and questioned me for a while.

“Hello, Annabelle. I’m Sheriff Dave. Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?” he said.

“Not at all. Where are my dad and uncle? Are they okay?” I asked.

“They’re fine. They left town to look for you. They’ll be back tomorrow. Do you remember what happened?” Sheriff Dave asked.

“No, sorry. I just remember being in the town square of the mining town with Dad and Uncle Sam then everything went black. I remember a name, though. Zoë. I woke up in the snow alone,” I said.

“Are you sure you don’t remember seeing anything, Annabelle?” Sheriff Dave asked.

“Yeah.” I racked my brain for any details of my disappearance, but only the name remained. “I don’t remember anything else. I’m sorry. I’m not much help,” I said.

“It’s alright. You did as best as you could. The hospital is letting you out. I’ll go outside so you can get dressed, and we have a room for you,” Sheriff Dave said and left the room.

I got up, a little shaky on my feet, and I got dressed. The sheriff brought me to a motel with a few policemen standing outside to guard me. I took a shower and went to bed. I woke up to someone knocking on the door.

“Just a minute!” I called. I put on my hoodie and slipped my jeans over my shorts. I unlocked the door and opened it. The sheriff was standing there with Sam and Dean. I ran forward and tackled Dean with a hug. “Dad! Uncle Sam!”

Dean held onto me tightly for a minute before letting me go and letting Sam hug me. They both looked overjoyed to see me.

“Can we have a few minutes, Sheriff?” Dean asked. The sheriff nodded.

“Take your time. You can leave when you want.” The sheriff smiled and left. Sam and Dean came inside with me, and they started asking questions once the door was closed.

“Where’ve you been?! We were worried sick about you!” Sam said.

“I don’t know. It’s not there anymore. There’s just a name,” I said. Dean perked up.

“What name?” Dean asked.

“Zoë,” I said. Sam and Dean glanced at each other then worriedly back at me. “What? Is she what you were hiding from me?! Who is she? What is she?!”

“Calm down, Annabelle,” Sam said.

“Calm down? No. Not until I get answers,” I said.

“She’s an angel,” Dean said and paused. “She wants you to fight with heaven against Cass. Dammit! We must’ve walked right into a trap!” Dean said.

“A-angel?” I asked in shock. “We need to get out of here. She may know we’re still here.”

“Annabelle’s right. Come on, Dean. We’re already packed up,” Sam said.

“Let her come! She won’t lay a finger on Annabelle!” Dean said. I knew Dean meant it, but I couldn’t let him put himself in that kind of danger.

“She doesn’t have to. She took me right out of that town square. Come on, Dean. Let’s go home, okay?” I said a bit soothingly.

“Fine. Fine,” Dean said and calmed down a little.


	34. Dean

I brought in Annabelle’s bag so she could change clothes before we hit the road. Her hair had been a mess and she looked like she hadn’t been sleeping well, but after she washed up and changed, she looked a lot better. Sam caught Annabelle before we went out the door.

“Hey, Annabelle, this won’t happen again,” Sam told her. Annabelle crossed her arms and shook her head causing her ponytail to swing back and fourth.

“You can’t protect me forever,” she said.

“We can try,” I said.

Annabelle rolled her eyes and we got in the car. Annabelle slept peacefully for most of the drive back to Lincoln, but in the last hour or two of the drive, she started muttering things in her sleep. Sam and I ignored it until Annabelle yelped and sat straight up in the backseat. She looked around frantically and let out a sigh of relief before lying back down.  
“Easy, Annabelle. What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Nightmares,” Annabelle said quietly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sam asked.

“No. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it,” Annabelle answered.

“All right. We’re almost home,” I said.

“I’m going out for dinner with Dylan tonight. Is that okay?” Annabelle asked.

“Yeah. Do you want us to drop you off there?” I asked.

“Yeah. Thanks,” Annabelle said.

“No problem,” I said.

The car fell silent for the rest of the drive. Annabelle was out most of the night with Dylan. When she got home, she seemed to be in a better mood. She went to bed soon after she got home, and a few hours after that, she woke up screaming from a nightmare. I sat with her for a while to get her calmed down.

“Annabelle, what was it?” I asked once she was calm enough to talk.

“Just a nightmare,” Annabelle said, though her shaky breaths said otherwise.

“Tell me about it,” I said.

“No. It’s okay. I’m fine. Go back to bed,” Annabelle said.

“Annabelle, that’s twice in one day. What’s going on?” I pressed.

“Nightmares. It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Annabelle said and forced a smile.

“Sometimes if you talk to someone, the nightmares go away,” I said. Annabelle hesitated then gave in.

“I keep seeing myself in bloody battlefields . . . and in one, I have wings,” Annabelle said.

“Well, what do you think it means?” I asked.

“What if Zoë doesn’t have to look for me? What if she’s in me and that’s why I don’t remember what happened?” Annabelle began to shake though she tried to hide it and fear glinted in her eyes.

“Angels need permission to take a vessel. I know you wouldn’t do that no matter what they told you,” I said.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.” Annabelle nodded. “Thanks, Dean.”

“No problem. Got some more rest, kid,” I said as I turned off the lights and went back to my room.

Annabelle slept through the rest of the night and didn’t have anymore nightmares for a while. We didn’t take another case until the end of February.


	35. Sam

The last day of February landed on a Friday, and that night, we headed out to a secluded town in Utah that had been struggling with a shifter for a few weeks. We left right after we picked Annabelle up from school. The drive took up most of the night, and all of us crashed almost immediately after getting a room.

The next morning, Dean and I went to see the bodies and make sure we had a positive ID. We were sure that our monster was a shape shifter after seeing the first body. Dean wanted Annabelle to take the lead for the case so he said he’d stay behind while Annabelle and I took care of the shifter.

Annabelle and I headed out once it was dark. We searched the tunnels silently with Annabelle about twenty feet in front of me. The tunnels were dark, and I couldn’t see Annabelle. I heard her stop so I froze too. All was quiet for a minute.

“Sam, I’ve got a victim. She’s alive,” Annabelle said.

I moved to where she was, got out my flashlight, and shined the beam on the woman. She sat in a puddle of her own blood tied to a pipe. A single stab wound to her stomach was clearly the source of the blood. Her breathing was shallow. Annabelle was finishing cutting the ropes that held the woman to the pipe.

“Get her out of here, Annabelle. I’ll find the shifter,” I said.

“Sam, be careful,” Annabelle said as she pulled the woman’s arm around her shoulder and lifter her to her feet.

Annabelle dragged the woman back toward the entrance to the tunnels. I pushed on. Soon, I came across where the shifter had been changing its skin. I was taken back a little by the smell of the rotting flesh that was scattered around the room, and I was glad Annabelle wasn’t following me. Before I could think, a hand was over my mouth, and I was being pulled back. I elbowed whoever it was, and it stumbled back. I turned to see the shifter grinning wickedly at me. I heard running footsteps coming down the hall, and I knew Annabelle would be here soon. The shifter shed its skin and ended up looking like me. It changed position so it was standing right beside me when Annabelle came in.

“Sam, I lost—” Annabelle froze, took out her gun, and looked hesitantly between the shifter and I. “Which is the real Sam?”

“I am!” the shifter and I said in unison. Annabelle cursed under her breath.

“What’s my last name?” Annabelle asked.

“Legally it’s Hareven, but you call yourself Annabelle Winchester,” I said.

“Winchester,” the shifter said.

“My mom’s name?” Annabelle sounded anxious.

“Emma,” the shifter and I said.

“My dad’s name?” Annabelle was visibly confused.

“George,” both versions of me responded.

“My sister?”

“Lisa.”

“My brother?” Annabelle’s voice shook with rage and fear.

“Andrew,” we said and Annabelle’s eyes lit up signaling she had a hard question.

“How old am I?” she asked. Annabelle had never mentioned her birthday, but I had to look through her medical filed so I knew, just in case.

“Fourteen now. Your birthday was January eighteenth,” I answered.

“Thirteen,” the shifter said.

“I never told you my birthday,” Annabelle said and fired a shot into my shoulder. “Come on, Sam, let’s go,” she told the shifter.

“Don’t you want to finish it off?” it asked Annabelle and looked smugly down at me.

“No. Let it bleed out. Let’s go home,” Annabelle said and started walking away. The shifter took the Impala’s keys from me and followed her out. I counted half an hour before blood loss made me dizzy and I passed out.


	36. Annabelle

I wasn’t sure if I had picked the right Sam. That was the only reason I hadn’t taken the kill shot in the tunnels. I debated my choice all the way back to the motel and watched the mirrors carefully. Fear, adrenaline, and sadness coursed through my veins. The woman I was bringing out of the tunnels had died on me before I could get her out, and I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if Sam died tonight. As the Impala turned into the motel parking lot, some light caught Sam’s eyes and they glinted silver.

Panic surged through me and I almost burst into tears. _I shot Sam._ The thought seemed to echo through my mind. As soon as the car was close to stopped, I jumped out and ran into our room to get Dean’s help.

“Annabelle? Is everything okay? Where’s Sam?” Dean asked when I came in. I felt tears running down my face.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I’m sorry,” I said.

“Annabelle…?”

“The shifter is outside. I shot Sam. He’s not dead. He’s not dead. I shot his shoulder. I wasn’t sure. I’m sorry.” I said. Dean’s eyes burned with anger, and I knew that anger was directed at me.

“Let’s go then,” Dean said gruffly. He grabbed his silver knife and pushed past me.

I followed Dean into the parking lot and watched him stab the shifter and stuff it into the backseat. I slid into the passenger seat and tried to withhold a sob. Dean slid silently into the driver’s seat and sped out of the parking lot. He didn’t say anything the entire way, but I could feel his anger towards me; and that just made me feel worse. I pulled myself together and led Dean to where I had left Sam. He was unconscious, but still alive. Dean wouldn’t let me near Sam until we got to the Impala. Dean threw the shifter’s body out of the car.

“Get in. You’re gonna hold pressure to the wound, got it?” Dean said bluntly. I nodded.

Dean drove to a hospital and made me stay in the waiting room while he went with Sam to make sure Sam was okay. I sat in the farthest corner of the waiting room with my knees to my chest trying to look as small as possible. I felt like I had betrayed Sam, and I didn’t want to exist at the moment. My thoughts ate away at me until I finally began to cry. The tears ran down my face in a steady stream.

After what felt like days, Dean came into the waiting room. His eyes were softer towards me, but I could still feel some hostility. Dean sat next to me and put a hand on my back. I sniffled and tried to make my breaths stop shaking.  
“How are you doing?” Dean asked quietly.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered and wiped my cheeks.

“Sam’s gonna be fine, Annabelle,” Dean said.

“Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be sorry. I shot him,” I said.

“It’s okay. It was an accident,” Dean said though his voice was tight.

“Don’t try to pretend that you aren’t mad at me,” I said.

“I’m not,” Dean said. His hand tensed and his pupils contracted.

“Really? I can read you like an open book, Dean. You’re lying, and you’re angry. Go ahead. Yell at me. Do what you need to   
make yourself feel better,” I said and braced for whatever Dean would do.

“Okay, I’m upset. He’s my brother, Annabelle, you know that. It’s my job to protect him. I’m a little mad at you for shooting him, but I’m angrier with myself for not being there to protect him. It was an honest mistake,” Dean said.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t sure. I should’ve kept questioning them until I was sure,” I said and tears came to my eyes again.

“Come here, kid.” Dean stood up and opened his arms. I hugged him and allowed myself to sob. Dean hugged me firmly. “It’s okay. Let it out.” Dean said. “Sam told me what happened. He’s blaming himself. Fourteen, huh?” I let go of Dean, wiped my eyes, and managed a small smile.

“Yeah,” I said.

“You know that means next year you can get your permit,” Dean grinned.

“Yep! You gonna teach me how to drive the Impala?” I asked.

“Sure, kid.” Dean looked at his watch. “It’s getting late. Let’s go back to the hotel and get some rest, alright?”

“Are they keeping Sam overnight?” I asked.

“Yeah. You can see him tomorrow. You look exhausted. Come on,” Dean said steering me toward the door.

“Fine.” I gave in, knowing he wasn’t going to change his mind.

When we got back to the motel, it took Dean a few minutes to fall asleep, but it took me hours. I tossed and turned worrying about Sam for most of the night. When I finally fell asleep, the sun was beginning to rise, and it was only an hour before Dean woke me up. We got ready, picked Sam up, and headed home. I apologized to Sam countless times on the way back to Lincoln.


	37. Dean

I spent the rest of the weekend taking care of Sam. The next few weeks went smoothly, and Annabelle seemed to be in higher spirits. March slipped away to April. It started warming up outside and Annabelle and Dylan started helping out farmers around town to bring in some money. Annabelle enjoyed being able to spend the time with him. Dylan was a good kid, and he was often able to lift Annabelle’s spirits if she was down so I didn’t mind it.

On the night of the nineteenth, Annabelle’s nightmares started getting worse. It was almost three in the morning and she started screaming bloody murder. I ran into her room with my gun drawn and found her still asleep and screaming. I put the gun down on her dresser and shook her awake. Annabelle looked shell-shocked when she woke up. She looked over her hands and her shirt as if she was checking to make sure nothing was on them before looking at me.

“Was I screaming?” Her voice was barely a whisper, and I could see her blinking back tears.

“Yeah, what was it?” I asked.

“Another nightmare. They’re getting worse,” Annabelle muttered.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked. She shook her head. “Do you think you can get back to sleep?”

“I don’t know. I can try.” Annabelle shrugged and lay back down. She buried herself in the blankets so only her head stuck out. I got up to leave and headed for the door.

“Wait . . .” Annabelle’s soft voice came when I was halfway to the door. She got up. “I don’t think I can sleep. Do you know any good movies?”

“Try the Lord of the Rings trilogy,” I said.

“All right. Thanks. Night,” Annabelle said. She walked blindly downstairs, and I heard her turn the TV on. I went back to bed knowing she wouldn’t talk until she was ready.


	38. Sam

Annabelle shook me awake. It was hard to make out most of her face due to the low lighting, but the moonlight that leaked through the window lit some of her features. She looked shaken up. I looked at the clock: 2:30; back at Annabelle. She took a shaky breath and sat on the bed next to me.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I keep having nightmares. Can we talk?” she whispered.

“Shoot.”

“I see flashes of scenes: me killing you and Dean, Dylan and Marina’s blood covering my hands and clothes, and me standing on a battlefield full of bodies with wings extending from my back. I’m scared, Sam. I don’t want any of that to happen. D-Do you think that I could…?” Annabelle trailed off.

“No. You’re a good kid. You wouldn’t hurt anyone unless you absolutely had to. Go back to sleep. Everything’ll be okay.”

“I can’t sleep. I’ll just have more nightmares.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know… I just don’t want to sleep.”

“Come on.” I got up. “We’ll watch some TV, and maybe you can get some more sleep.”

Annabelle nodded. We stumbled downstairs using the wall as a guide and flipped on some lights. Annabelle turned on the television and opened Netflix. I glanced at the recently watched selections: _Sherlock, Game of Thrones,_ and a few movies. Annabelle tossed the remote to me.

“You choose something.”

“Well, what do you want to watch?”

“Anything’s fine.”

I clicked on the _Game of Thrones_ and played the episode it was set on. The episode played for a while before I glanced at Annabelle. She looked like she was fighting hard to stay awake. I played another episode, and Annabelle was out before it was fifteen minutes in. I took the blanket that she kept neatly folded on the arm of the couch and covered her up with it. I finished the episode and headed back to my room.

* * *

I woke up to the smell of bacon and pancakes. I heard Dean’s door close down the hall. He shuffled past my room and down the stairs. Annabelle must’ve made breakfast. I pulled my phone out from under my pillow and checked the time. It was only ten. Annabelle was up early for it being a Sunday. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and joined Dean and Annabelle downstairs. Dean was sitting at the table. Annabelle came out of the kitchen and placed a cup of coffee in front of Dean before glancing at me.

“Morning, Sam. Coffee?” She smiled at me.

“Sure.” I sat next to Dean.

We exchanged confused glances. Dean’s eyelids were still heavy with sleep, and his hair was sticking up in odd angles. I guessed the same was true for me and ran my fingers through my hair. Annabelle came back into the dining room and set a cup of coffee in front of me. I got a good look at her. She was dressed in a white tank top with a blue button up plaid shirt that I’d seen Dylan wearing a few days ago with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, a pair of faded blue jeans, and brown work boots with a white lace design on the sides. Her hair was damp, probably from taking a shower; and she had tried to cover up dark circles under her eyes with some makeup, but it hadn’t quite done the job. She caught me looking at her and gave me a look that said not to say anything about it. She quickly regained her pleasant look.

“What do you two want to eat? I’ve got bacon, pancakes, and eggs ready.” Annabelle grabbed two plates.

“You don’t have to serve us, Annabelle.” I took the plates from her. “Get yourself something.”

“It’s fine. Dylan’s coming to pick me up in a little bit. We have a history test to study for. He said he’d take me out for breakfast.”

“All right. Are you finished getting ready?” I went to the kitchen. Dean and Annabelle followed.

“I just need to do my hair. Syrup’s in the microwave.”

“Okay. Go finish getting ready.”

Annabelle nodded and went upstairs. Dylan picked her up ten minutes later, and they were gone most of the day. Annabelle came home in time for dinner. Dean had picked up Chinese takeout figuring that Annabelle wouldn’t be home until later in the night. We ate together, and Annabelle went to bed after she did the dishes claiming she needed the extra sleep to do well on the test tomorrow. Dean and I stayed at the table.

“She’s not gonna sleep,” Dean told me in a hushed tone.

“Did she tell you about the nightmares?”

“When I talked to her the night she woke up screaming, she wouldn’t give me details, just that she’d had them. Why? Did she say something to you?”

“Yeah. She woke me up last night and told me about them.”

“What were they about?”

I related what Annabelle had told me the previous night. Dean said she’d told him something similar a while back. There was a long silence before Dean spoke up.

“Do you think she was forced into accepting an angel when she disappeared?”

“I don’t know. I think she’d rather die than do that. I’d guess they’d make her drink the blood instead. Do you think we should call Cass in, see if he can tell us anything?”

“Let’s call him, just in case.”

We made the call to Cass, and he talked to Annabelle for a long time. Dean ranted about how he’d get revenge on Zoe if Annabelle had an angel inside of her. Cass came down halfway through Dean’s rant. Dean shut up and looked expectantly at the angel.

“Annabelle is not being used as a vessel. She is safe.”

“That’s great!” Dean looked like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders at Cass’s news.

“Thanks, Cass.” I grinned.

“You’re welcome. Goodnight, Sam and Dean.” With that, Cass disappeared.

I slept soundly that night. I think Annabelle did, too. There was no screaming from her room, and she didn’t pay Dean or me a visit in the middle of the night. That lasted the rest of the week.


	39. Annabelle

The week had gone well, and I decided to go hunting with Dylan and Marina. They offered to take me with them for a little vengeful spirit case on the outskirts of Lincoln in an old cemetery. The case was pretty simple and easy, but I still managed to get separated from Dylan and Marina while we were trying to distract the ghost.

The poor man had been killed while trying to break up a fist fight that had turned into a gun fight. Shots were fired, and he was killed instantly when a bullet struck his heart. The guy’s spirit could have been worse for wear I guess. His flesh had been affected by decomposition, and his skin had taken on a blueish hue. He’d killed a few people who had been vandalizing the cemetery by shocking them. It was a quick death and merciful considering what spirits were capable of doing.

Once we had lured him out, he made it a point to separate Marina, Dylan, and I. He appeared between me and Marina and Dylan and threatened to send tiny but deadly tendrils of lightning towards each of us. We had to run. They went one way and I went the other when I saw that they were heading for the man’s grave.

“Hey, ugly! Come and get me!” I called. The man paid me no attention so I pushed an already loose piece of a headstone over. “Look at this!” That got his attention.

“You ignorant child! Look what you’ve done! You must be disciplined!”

He ran at me, and I bolted in the opposite direction of his grave site. I kept going, jumping over headstones and any other obstacles, until I reached the six foot tall chain link fence. I knew I could scale it in a matter of minutes so I started climbing. My foot caught in one of the links, and I cursed my bad luck. The ghost continued to advance. I knew if I couldn’t get out, I was dead meat. I kicked frantically until I got my foot out. I hopped to the ground and continued running around the perimeter of the cemetery. I heard the buzz of electricity and looked at the fence next to me. It hummed with electricity. The ghost was making one thing clear: I wasn’t getting out of here.

I turned around to see where the ghost was. Big mistake. My ankle twisted, and pain shot through my leg. I fell and rolled over. He was walking slowly towards me a sinister grin on his face. This was it. I was going to die here. I watched frozen in fear and feeling completely helpless. The ghost got within fifteen feet, ten, five, two feet. He started burning away. He screamed, but it faded into the air the same way his body did. I got up and limped around the cemetery until I heard Dylan and Marina talking.

“We mustn’t let her know. She’ll kill the both of us without thinking twice.” Marina’s voice was tight. I drew the angel sword I always kept with me just in case and ducked behind a tombstone.

“I think she has the right to know. Zoe wants us to gain her trust.” Dylan’s voice had the same tightness to it.

I peeked over the tombstone to look at Dylan and Marina. Each had a faint pair of shadowy wings extending from between their shoulder blades. My heart sank. This couldn’t be happening. Marina and Dylan knew about the angels. They knew what Zoe wanted from me. My nightmares were coming true. I ran from my hiding place and stabbed Marina.

“No!” Dylan screamed. “Annabelle, what are you doing?!”

“Drop the act.” I felt sick to my stomach, and my rage leaked into my voice. “I know what you are.”

“You insufferable girl! That was my sister!” the angel screamed at me.

“And you’re in my boyfriend’s body!” A thought occurred to me. “How long have you been in there?! Was any of it real?! Do I even know the real Dylan?!” Tears blurred my vision, but I blinked them back as fast as I could.

“Do not worry. I’ve only had this vessel for a few days. Your Dylan really does love you.” The angel sounded eerily calm. I stepped forward and kissed Dylan one last time. My hand ghosted over his jawline.

“Dylan, if you’re still in there somewhere, I love you, and I’m sorry.” I drove my angel sword into his chest and watched the life drain from his eyes. I dropped the angel sword.

Dylan fell to his knees, and I fell with him taking his limp body into my arms and allowing a sob to escape my mouth. I felt his blood soaking into my clothing and over my hands. I let out an anguished scream and held onto Dylan, feeling the tears run down my face, until I could think straight enough to call Dean. I laid Dylan’s body down and got my phone out. The world seemed to spin with the amount of grief I was feeling.

“Hey, Annabelle. Did the case go well?” Dean said coolly as he picked up.

“Dean, I need you.” My voice cracked after I said his name.

“Why? What happened? Are you—?”

“Please, just come.”

“Alright. Don’t move. I’ll be right there.”

“Okay. Hurry.” I hung up. Tears rolled down my cheeks in a steady stream as I stared at the bodies lying near me.

_How could this have happened? This is my fault. I could have prevented this. I murdered my boyfriend._ These thoughts race through my mind and made me sob harder. The pleasant summer day seemed to be mocking me now, but I couldn’t move or do anything to change it. I felt like I was paralyzed. Suddenly, a woman was in front of me. She wore a black skirt, neat white shirt, a jacket to match the skirt, and black high heels with a felt texture. She looked like a corporate businesswoman. She took a step towards me ignoring the bodies, and I scooted away from her a little.

“There, there, Annabelle. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to help.” Her voice was smooth and velvety with a little bit of a Hispanic accent.

“Who are you?”

“I’m Zoe.”

I reached for my angel sword at the name, but she was between me and my weapon. Zoe kicked it aside seeing my alarm.

“Don’t worry. I’m not here to hurt you darling. I’m here to apologize. You weren’t supposed to find out about this.”

“You get the hell away from me! You’re the one that made this happen! It’s your fault!”

“Well, you didn’t have to kill them, dear,” Zoe scolded me like a small child.

“What other option did I have?!”

Zoe shrugged. “None I guess. You very well could have ignored it.”

“I— I could’ve ignored it? How am I supposed to ignore the fact that my boyfriend is possessed by a freaking angel?!?!” My voice came out so harsh that the angel took a step back, and fear flashed in her dark chocolate colored eyes. She quickly regained her composure.

“We can discuss the day’s events elsewhere. It is time to go.” Her voice was firm.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“We don’t have time for this. You’re coming with me,” Zoe snapped, and we were suddenly in my old room in my old home in Colorado. The air was crisp and smelled of blooming flowers. My brother, Andrew, and sister, Lisa, were laughing and playing outside. I guessed that it was late April or early May. My parents’ laugh drifted up the stairs and hit me like a blow to the stomach.

“Why are you doing this to me? Do you think that doing this will get me to do what you want? You’re wrong.”

“No, dear, we’re in your mind. Don’t you recognize this? It’s your happy place. Isn’t that what you call it?”

“This is my old home. I left it behind a long time ago. I’m not turning back to it now.”

“What if I told you I could give you all of this back?”

I rolled my eyes. “Zoe, you are an ignorant angel. I don’t trust you. I won’t join your cause. The apocalypse is not happening. Got it?”

“No, you don’t understand. You either join us, or you die. It is as simple as that.” Zoe suddenly had an angel sword in her hand. She had it pointed at me.

“Oh, we’re playing it this way? Good luck finding me.”

I bolted from my room, down the stairs, and outside. I looked to my left then to my right. A road or the forest. I ran for the forest.

“Annabelle, you cannot leave this place until I release you! You won’t be any use to those beloved brothers if you’re unresponsive!” Zoe yelled after me.

I kept going. I knew I didn’t have a choice. I wasn’t going to surrender to Zoe, and if that was the only way out, I’d rather die. I ran deeper and deeper into the woods.


	40. Dean

I pulled up next to Dylan and Marina’s truck in front of the cemetery. It was eerily quiet, and there were no signs of Annabelle or her boyfriend and his sister. I’d heard about the recent deaths and feared the worst. I walked through the cemetery yelling Annabelle’s name for a while. There was never a response. Finally, I found her angel sword. It looked like it had been thrown away carelessly, and it had blood on it. I kept looking.

After what seemed like forever, I found Annabelle. Panic surged through my body when I came across the scene. Dylan and Marina lay dead in pools of blood with shadowy wings extending from their shoulders. No more than five feet away from Dylan’s body, Annabelle lay unconscious. Blood soaked her shirt and her hands. I looked her over to make sure the blood wasn’t hers. Once I was sure of that, I felt Annabelle’s pulse. It was there and steady. There were no clues as to what had happened. I picked Annabelle up, got her into the Impala, and called Sam.

“Dean? Is everything okay? Why did Annabelle need you?”

“I don’t know. When I got here, she was passed out next to Dylan and Marina’s bodies. I’m on my way to pick you up. I need you to drop Annabelle and I off at the hospital then go give Dylan and Marina proper hunter’s burials.”

“Dylan and Marina are dead?”

“Yeah, and it looked like they were angels, Sam. They know where we are. We’ve gotta get outta town once Annabelle’s awake.”

“No kidding. Hurry up. I’ll see you when you get here.” Sam hung up.

I got back to the house as fast as I could. Sam was waiting outside when I got there. I moved to the backseat where Annabelle was and checked her over again to see if I could tell what had happened. Again, I found nothing. It was like she’d just laid down and given up. Sam got in front and started driving.

Sam glanced back at Annabelle. “What happened to her?”

“I don’t know.”

“Any of that blood hers?”

“No.”

Sam was quiet the rest of the way to the hospital. He dropped Annabelle and me at the emergency room entrance and left to take care of the bodies. The doctors rushed Annabelle into a room and started running tests on her to see what was wrong with her. They didn’t let me back to see her for a long time. When I finally got to see Annabelle, they had her hooked up to the usual equipment: a heart monitor and an IV. The doctors couldn’t figure out what had happened to Annabelle either. It was hours before Sam showed up. He smelled like smoke, and worry had etched into his features.

“They figure out what happened?” Sam asked nodding toward Annabelle.

“No. There’s no signs that anything happened. It’s like she just . . . passed out.”

“Do they think she’ll come out of it?”

“They can’t tell.”

Sam and I sat in silence. I watched Annabelle carefully for any changes. After a few hours, a doctor came in to take blood. He tried to convince me and Sam that Annabelle would be fine. He promised to find out what was wrong with Annabelle. I wasn’t so sure.


	41. Sam

A week passed, and Annabelle was still unconscious. Blood tests came up with no answers as to what was going on. The doctors ran endless tests on Annabelle and still came up with no answers. She seemed unharmed, and no toxins or drugs were found in her system. Finally, the doctors started scanning Annabelle’s brain. Dean was nervous for Annabelle, and he was nervous that the angels would find us. I pulled a doctor aside to talk.

“So have you found anything?” I asked.

“It’s like her brain went into overtime. Usually when a person is like this, they have minimal brain activity, like they’re sleeping. Her brain has too much activity. You’re her uncle, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Just sit tight. She’ll pull through.”

“You can say that for sure?”

“From what I’ve seen, yes.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Thanks, doc.”

I told Dean what the doctor had told me. We waited for Annabelle to wake up. At one point, her heart rate spiked, and she yelled “Let me out!” Dean and I had no idea what that meant, but minutes after she said it, she returned to the state she had been in before. I finally turned my attention to trying to figure out what happened at the cemetery.

Annabelle’s angel sword was the only weapon I found there. The body of the man that was haunting the place had been burned. There was no sign anyone had been there with them. The shadowy wings that extended from Dylan and Marina’s shoulders had clearly pointed out that they were angels.

That had to be the answer. Maybe Annabelle had discovered that her boyfriend and his sister were angels. Maybe they had attacked her, and she’d just had enough time to do away with them before she collapsed. Maybe Annabelle was a prisoner in her own mind. If that theory was right, how could we get her out of her head? Was it all up to her? I decided it was time to call Cass in. I discussed it with Dean first.

“Dean, let’s call Cass in and see if he can do anything to help. He’ll want to know what Zoe did anyway.”

Dean nodded in agreement. “Call him in.”

“Dear Castiel who art fighting a war in heaven, we pray that you get down here and help us out.” I waited a second. “Come on, Cass. Annabelle needs you.”

I heard the familiar sound of wings fluttering and opened my eyes to see Cass standing across the room looking grimly at Dean, Annabelle, and I. Finally, he met my eyes. “What can I do to help?”

“Zoe sent angels after Annabelle. They possessed her boyfriend and his sister. We found her like this. They were dead. I think . . .” I paused. “I think she’s trapped in her own mind. Do you think you can help us out?”

“I can try. It would help if you could wait elsewhere.”

Dean and I waited outside the door for at least an hour. Finally, Cass came out of the room.

“There’s nothing I can do. It’s up to Annabelle,” Cass said and disappeared.

All we could do was wait for Annabelle to wake, and I hated the idea of not being able help her.


	42. Annabelle

“Annabelle! Where are you, dear? I just want to talk!” Zoe’s voice echoed through the forest

I held my breath as the angel walked past the tree I was perched in. How long had it been? A day? Two? More? I couldn’t remember. I thought I made contact with the real world earlier.

I’d made it to the edge of the forest. There was a drop-off there, and I had nowhere else to run. Zoe walked toward me slowly with the leisurely pace of a predator stalking injured prey. My mind raced, and my eyes searched for possible escape routes. When I found none, I allowed Zoe to approach me. She had placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and spoke calmly to me.

“There, there, little warrior. You do not have to run any longer.”

I felt some part of me awaken so I screamed, “Let me out!” Zoe knew what I had done and promptly disappeared. I ran back to the forest. I’d been hiding there perching in a tree ever since.

Zoe continued deeper into the forest, and I relaxed a little. I put my back against the tree’s trunk and closed my eyes. For the hundredth time, I assessed my situation and chances of survival.

I was trapped in my own mind. I didn’t know how to get out, and my worst enemy was there with me. Something in me had awakened at her touch. Maybe Zoe was my only way out. I climbed out of the tree and ran after Zoe.

“Zoe! I’m ready to talk!”

The angel smiled at me. “Good choice. Why don’t we discuss matters over a cup of tea?”

“Why not?”

The next thing I knew, I was in the dining room of my old home. My mom placed a cup of tea in front of me, poured some milk in, and served Zoe.

“Thank you, Mrs. Hareven.”

Mom didn’t respond to Zoe. She just nodded and left the room. My eyes followed her longingly. I just wanted her back for a little bit.

“I’ll bring them back for you if you help me out.”

I laughed bitterly. “There’s that catch. How many times do I have to tell you no? Your cause is wrong.”

“Explain how, dear.”

“First of all, you’re killing people.”

“Cass has quite the body count as well.”

“Yes, but he’s fighting for the right reasons. Times have changed, Zoe. The Bible never predicted God would abandon everyone.”

“The Bible never predicted Lucifer would be thrown back into the cage either, but that happened.”

“But God didn’t spring Lucifer from the cage in the first place nor did He send Jesus. He was already gone.”

“Maybe He wasn’t!” Zoe spat. The look on her face told me she regretted what she just said.

“What?”

The angel sipped her tea, regained her composure. “Nothing, dear.”

“That was something. What do you mean?”

“I meant nothing by what I said. Now, back to the task at hand. You can’t stay here much longer. I must bring you back to the real world at some point. We need you.”

“You need me?” I asked in awe and scoffed. “I don’t work for you.”

“Inadvertently you do. Everything you do, every kill you make, you’re contributing to your fate.”

“Your death is at the top of my ‘To-Do List.’ Is dying part of your plan?”

“Your feeble attempt at killing me is.”

Anger overtook me. “You’re calling me weak? Would you choose someone who’s weak for your apocalypse master plan?”

“No, dear.” Zoe’s voice was still level and calm. “Without the blood, you are weak. Your full strength and power cannot be accessed without it.”

“Then I want to be weak.”

“Do you want to see what you would be capable of at your full potential?”

“I see it every night in my nightmares. All my ‘full potential,’” I hooked air quotes around the words, “would make me capable of is genocide.”

“You’re quite wrong.”

“How? How in the world am I wrong? All I see in my dreams is death and destruction, and now you’ve locked me in my own mind. Please, Zoe, just kill me now. I won’t work for you. I won’t help you. I hate you!”

A combination of anger and hurt passed over Zoe’s face. “Watch your mouth, girl. Heaven wants to help you. You should take the offer.” Her voice was tense.

“All heaven has done for almost a year now is hurt me!”

“You used to be so devout. If it weren’t for those cursed Winchesters, you would comply gladly.”

“If it weren’t for those ‘cursed’ Winchesters, I’d be dead!”

“You are absolutely worthless, Annabelle Hareven.”

“It’s Winchester.”

“That name is a disgrace to your family and who you should be.”

Anger burned in my chest. The next thing I knew I had the collar of Zoe’s suit jacket in my fists, and I was inches from her. She smelled of my mother’s fresh baked cookies. The scent only fueled my anger more.

“Winchester is a name I carry with honor! The amount of lives I save, my mom would be proud!” I growled.

Zoe pushed me away. An invisible force pushed me against the far wall of the dining room. The pressure took the air from my lungs, and I felt my chest collapsing. My ribs popped.

“Never touch me.” Zoe said firmly. The lack of oxygen was making me dizzy. “Now, dear,” the words were strained with frustration, “I’m going to let you go. The next time we cross, you will comply, or you will die. Think about it.”

I sat straight up in a hospital bed gasping for air and surrounded by doctors.


	43. Dean

Annabelle suddenly started to struggle to get air into her lungs. Her vitals started to plummet. Sam and I had been rushed out of the room by a team of four or five doctors who were trying to figure out what was going on and how to save Annabelle. We watched nervously through a window to the room. Only a minute passed, but it felt like forever. Annabelle’s lips turned blue from a lack of air. The doctors were trying to give her oxygen, but she was thrashing defensively against them.

Finally, Annabelle’s eyes snapped open. She sat up and gasped for air. One of the doctors gave Annabelle an oxygen mask and gently pushed her back into a laying position. Annabelle tensed under the doctor’s touch until she convinced Annabelle that everything was okay. Annabelle was still a little reluctant to lay down, but followed the doctor’s instructions. She asked Annabelle a few questions before they let us back in. Annabelle visibly relaxed when she saw Sam and me. She still had the mask held to her face trying to catch her breath so she stayed silent. Sam stayed back a little, and I sat next to Annabelle. She took my hand and gave it a small squeeze.

“Good to see you’re up.”

“We were worried about you,” Sam agreed.

Annabelle removed the mask for a second. Color had returned to her lips, but her voice was still breathy. “I’m fine.”

Sam glanced at me then looked intently at Annabelle. “We found Dylan and Marina’s bodies . . .”

Annabelle’s muscles tensed. Her eyes filled with tears. She tried to blink them back. “Can we talk about that later?”

“Yeah. Sam, why don’t you go get you and me some coffee?”

Sam gave me a look. I glared at him until he left. Why had he brought that up now? It could wait. Annabelle put the mask on the bed beside her and allowed tears to roll down her temples and into her hair. Her chest shook as she tried to hold back the tears.

“Hey, whatever happened wasn’t your fault. Don’t cry, Annabelle.” I spoke gently.

“It was my fault. I killed them.”

“They were angels, right?”

“Yes.” Annabelle’s voice had suddenly become bitter.

“You had to.”

“Maybe I didn’t. Maybe I could’ve done something.”

“You couldn’t have. You know only the vessel can expel the angel.”

“It was too late for Marina, but I could’ve talked to Dylan. I could’ve pulled him out of it. Their deaths are on me, Dean. I should’ve done something. I should’ve done something.” Annabelle’s voice was filled with regret.

“Annabelle, listen to me,” I made her look into my eyes before I continued, “there is absolutely nothing you could have done for either of them. They were probably already gone when you came across the angels.”

“I could’ve at least tried.”

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened. There wasn’t anything you could have done.”

Annabelle fell silent glaring at a spot on the wall. I knew this wouldn’t be the last time we would have this conversation. Sam came back in silently and looked a question at me:

_What happened?_

_I’ll tell you later._

Suddenly, Annabelle’s eyes grew wide, and she sat straight up. “Get a doctor in here. We have to go!”

“Whoa, easy. What’s the rush?” Sam said.

“Zoe! She trapped me in my mind! She’s probably watching! We have to go _now_!”

“Okay, hang on. I’ll get a doctor.”

I stood and left the room. I found the doctor that had calmed Annabelle down earlier. She was busy with another patient, but she quickly turned her attention to me. She looked sincerely worried. Red hair was tied up in a neat bun. Her brown eyes met mine immediately. She was probably in her mid to late fifties. Her nametag read Dr. Goodwin.

“Hello, Mr. Winchester. Is Annabelle doing okay?”

“Yes, she’s fine; in fact, she’s wondering if she’ll be able to get home soon. We’ve had a vacation planned for quite some time now. The flight’s tomorrow, and she’s really looking forward to going.”

“The hospital would like to hold her overnight and run a few tests to make sure she’s all right, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“Would it be possible for you to just let her out now?”

“No, sir.”

“Can you please just let her go? Poor kid’s been through so much this week.”

Dr. Goodwin sighed. “I guess. I’ll be a few minutes. I have to get the paperwork for you to sign, but then we’ll let her go.”

“Thank you, Doctor!”

I went back to the room. Sam was speaking in a soothing voice to Annabelle, but she was barely listening.

“Sam, quit it! I won’t calm down until I know we’re all out of harm’s way!”

“Hunters throw themselves into harm’s way on purpose. Please, just try to relax.” Sam looked warily to me. “What’d the doctor say?”

“She said she’d be in soon. We’ll be out of here soon enough, Annabelle.”

“I hope so,” Annabelle mumbled.

* * *

An hour later, Sam, Annabelle, and I had packed our bags and were on the road. Annabelle hadn’t given us time to find a case. She said she just wanted to put as much distance between us and Lincoln as possible, and we can look for a case when we stop. Unfortunately, whenever we tried to stop, an angel or group of angels launched an attack on us. The body count we racked up that night clearly took its toll on Annabelle. She was desperate to save a life. At one of the stops for gas, Annabelle disappeared into the shadows of the convenience store when five angels gained up on Sam and me.

“Annabelle!” I yelled.

No response came. Sam and I continued to try to stave the angels off, but we were having no luck with it. Five minutes passed, and the angels just disappeared. One had had Sam by the neck when he disappeared dropping Sam and leaving him gasping for air on the pavement. The others had been keeping me busy while one slunk off to find Annabelle. Once they were gone, I figured they’d found Annabelle and taken her.

“Annabelle!” I yelled again, some panic in my voice.

To my relief, the teen ran out of the shadows. Her fingertips were covered in blood, and a piece of cloth was tied around one of her hands, but she looked triumphant. She went to Sam first and helped him up. She then looked at me.

“Let’s get out of here. The sigil only keeps them gone for a few minutes.”

Sam and I grinned, proud she’d remembered and used the information. “Yeah, good idea,” I said.

Once we were on the road again for a while, Annabelle asked in a concerned tone, “Are both of you okay?”

I had one cut that was particularly bad, but Sam was fine. Annabelle was eying the cut on my arm. Sam, too, was looking it over.

“I’m fine,” I assured them.

“We should stop. I can teach Annabelle how to stitch it up.”

“I’m fine, Sammy.”

“Dean, I’ve gotta learn some time.”

“Fine, fine.” I pulled to the side of the road.

Sam got out Dad’s old field surgeon kit and told Annabelle to come sit up front. “Clean it out, Annabelle.”

Annabelle cleaned the cut out. I didn’t complain like I would if Sam was doing the work. Sam showed Annabelle how to stitch the cut up and gave her tips as she worked. She took her time and muttered an apology every time she stuck the needle in too deep or saw me wince. We got back on the road when she was done.

* * *

Two days later, we were still driving, but in a different car. Annabelle and Sam had pointed out the Impala was too obvious to continue traveling in. We had hidden the Impala and stolen a junk car that no one would miss much. Sam and I had taken turns sleeping and driving. For her part, Annabelle tried to brighten our moods although more than once she had woken up crying and muttering “It’s not my fault. It’s not my fault.” Annabelle wouldn’t talk about it, but I had a suspicion the nightmares were about Dylan and Marina. Annabelle hadn’t been herself. I knew it was because she felt like she could have done something to help her boyfriend, but she couldn’t have. Still, she told some jokes and made her best effort to make Sam and I smile every chance she had.

We had traveled west towards California and south through the Sunshine State. Now, we were cruising east to Dallas. Sam was asleep next to me, and Annabelle was reading in the backseat. We hadn’t had any more angel attacks. I decided we would stop in Dallas to look for a case. Annabelle was fine with that. She was getting tired of being in the car all the time. She had barely been able to stretch her legs. She hated seeing Sam and I so tired and tense too.

When we finally stopped, Sam took his time finding us a case. He found a banshee in Indianapolis, Indiana. That was a thirteen hour drive at best from Dallas. We stayed the night and started out the next morning with Sam in the driver’s seat.


	44. Sam

Throughout the fourteen hour drive, Annabelle talked with me about whatever she could find to make conversation about. Dean slept most of that time. After a silence between conversations, Annabelle spoke up about something I hadn’t expected to hear about for a long time.

“You said you found Dylan and Marina’s bodies?”

“Yeah, are you sure you want to talk about this?”

“Yes. I will have to sometime. Did you… did you burn them?”

I nodded. “Hunter’s burial.”

“They were angels.”

“I saw the wings. Did you…?”

“Kill them? Yes. I did. I had to.” Annabelle’s voice grew quieter as she spoke.

“Did they say how long?”

“A few days.”

“I’m sorry, Annabelle.”

“It’s fine. You know what they say: everything happens for a reason.”

I firmly disagreed with that saying, but I didn’t want to upset Annabelle. “Yeah. Things will get better.”

“I’m sure they will.”

After that, it was silent for a long time. When I looked back, Annabelle was asleep in the backseat. She looked a little more relaxed than she had the past few days. We were passing through West Memphis when Dean woke up. He glanced back at Annabelle and spoke to me in a hushed tone.

“Pull over. Let me drive for a while.”

“Are you sure? I can take it the rest of the way.”

“I’m sure. Let me drive.”

I pulled the Impala slowly to the shoulder of the road and switched spots with Dean. Annabelle began to wake up when the car came to a stop. She snapped awake when Dean closed the door a little too loud. A look of panic crossed her face as her hand reached for the angel blade she had started to constantly carry with her.

“Calm down. It’s okay. Just closed the door. Everything’s okay,” Dean said quietly.

Annabelle didn’t look convinced until she had looked around and realized we were alone. She nodded, and her muscles relaxed. “Sorry. You scared me.”

“I know. My fault. Go back to sleep.”

Annabelle curled up again and fell back asleep. I fell asleep when we were just outside of Sikeston, Missouri.

* * *

Annabelle was gently shaking my shoulder and quietly saying my name when I woke up. She grinned when I opened my eyes.

“About time!” she said in a joking tone. “We’re in Indianapolis. Come on. Dean’s got us checked in. I’ll take the couch tonight.”

I stretched and got out of the Impala. “I can take the couch. You should take one of the beds.”

“It’s my turn to take the couch. Come on, now. Let’s go inside, and you can sleep a while longer. Dean wants to talk to local law enforcement tomorrow after you catch us up on what’s going on here,” Annabelle informed me.

“All right. That sounds good.”

Annabelle made Dean and I get some more rest while she put up some warding and unpacked. She played her music quietly to break the silence. I heard “A Drop in the Ocean” and “Almost Lover” play numerous times. Those were the only two songs Annabelle hummed along to. The third time “A Drop in the Ocean” played, I drifted to sleep.

* * *

Annabelle woke Dean and me up when she brought in dinner. The smell of fast food burgers and fries filled the room quickly. I heard the rustling of paper bags as Annabelle set everything out on the table. She called to us when she was done:

“Dinner, boys. Time to wake up.”

Dean was the first to go to the small table. I followed him. Annabelle tried to hold back a laugh when she saw me.

“Sam, your hair is a mess!”

I ran my hands through my hair and cleared my throat. “What’s for dinner?”

“I got Dean a bacon cheeseburger, you a salad, and myself a sandwich.” Annabelle gave each of us our meals and we sat down to eat. “So, what’s the game plan?”

“I think we should go talk to the sheriff and the one person all of the victims knew,” Dean said.

“Who’s that?”

“Her name is Davin O’Connor. She says she heard the banshee each time one of her friends died,” I said.

“What are the cops saying? Are they calling her crazy?”

“Oh, yeah, but the press is having a whole lotta fun playing the whole banshee thing up.”

“I’ll show you and Dean what I found after dinner.”

After we finished eating, I showed Annabelle and Dean the articles I had found that were talking about the banshee. We discussed our plan to talk to the sheriff the next morning. We talked to Annabelle about talking to Davin on her own because they were closer in age. She agreed to do so and headed to bed. Dean and I stayed up since we were feeling well rested. Dean took the laundry down to a Laundromat, and I continued reading through the articles about the five victims and the banshee while listening to the police scanner. The night passed without any problems. Annabelle only woke up once after muttering “Leave them alone. It’s not their fault,” but she quickly fell back asleep and slept through the night.

* * *

The next morning we all got cleaned up, and Dean and I got dressed in our monkey suits. Annabelle got dressed up in a pant suit and flats. She did her hair and makeup so that she looked sixteen or seventeen instead of her actual age, fourteen. Dean and I gave her a fake ID that said she was an intern with the FBI with the fake name “Angelina DeAngelo.” We headed to the police department when we were all ready. The introduction went smoothly, and the sheriff was friendly. Annabelle took notes about and pictures of the victims. She responded to Angelina and Ms. DeAngelo as well as Dean and I responded to Agents Ford and Hamill.

The first victim, Lee Ross, had a massive heart attack even though he was perfectly healthy and only nineteen. The second victim, Solomon Bond, had an aneurism. The third, Mona Masi, died of blunt force trauma. The fourth, Zhi Jez, was stabbed repeatedly. The fifth, Donella Ross, was shot; and the sixth, Francis Smythe, was poisoned. Annabelle looked surprised by the wide range of causes of death, and I couldn’t blame her. This was weird. When we got in the car, Annabelle looked over her notes and started sharing her thoughts.

“So, the banshee is supposed to be a death omen, right? Maybe this chick, Davin O’Connor, just has really bad luck with friends. Are you sure there’s a case here?”

“Yeah, I know it’s not what we normally do, but Davin needs our help getting rid of the banshee even if she is just a death omen,” Dean responded.

“Do we know how to get rid of her?”

“We’re supposed to get between her and the body of water she’s going to use to wash the clothes of the person who’s supposed to die in, which should be the Eagle Creek Reservoir. That’s supposed to grant us three wishes. We’re supposed to use the wishes to banish her,” I explained.

“What if that doesn’t work? The legends vary. Some say you can’t see the banshee unless you’re the one that’s going to die.”

“It should work. The oldest lore book Sam could find had the story about the clothes in it.”

“Okay. Well, let’s talk to Davin.”

We were silent for the rest of the drive to Davin O’Connor’s house. Davin was reluctant to let us in when she saw the badges, but Annabelle stepped forward and talked her into letting us in.

“Davin, I’m Angelina DeAngelo. I believe your story about the banshee. So do my supervisors here, Agents Ford and Hamill. We just want to talk so we can help you out. Will you let us in?”

“I don’t know. Nobody else believes me. Why would you?”

“We know you’re not crazy or lying. We deal with these kinds of things all the time.”

“Like on _The X-Files_?”

“Sorta. Can we talk to you?”

Davin opened the door. “Come inside.”

Annabelle, Dean, and I followed Davin inside. She had us sit on couch in the main room and disappeared through a hallway. She called back to us from where she’d gone, “Do you all want some coffee or something?”

“That’d be great,” Dean and I answered in unison.

“I’ll go help her out.”

Annabelle headed in the direction Davin had gone in. They didn’t return for a while though laughter flowed through the hallway every now and then. When they returned, each had two mugs in their hands. Annabelle sat one in front of Dean and one in front of me. She had prepared it just the way I like it. Davin handed the extra mug she was holding to Annabelle and sat across from Dean and I. Annabelle sat next to her. Davin had a more open and pleasant look on her face. Annabelle had done her job well. I opened the conversation.

“Ms. O’Connor—“

“Call me Davin.”

“Davin, can you tell us what you’ve been hearing and seeing?”

“Well, a banshee. She sings every time one of my friends dies. Sometimes, when I sneak a look out the window at the Reservoir, I see her cleaning my friend’s clothes.”

“Have you ever tried to talk to her?”

“Hell no! Are you kidding? She might kill me instead!”

“Has she ever paid any attention to you?”

“No. She’s too busy cleaning the clothes, and they’re always bloody.”

Annabelle looked confused. “Always?”

“Yes, even if they didn’t die in a bloody way.”

“Davin, does she always show up the same amount of time before one of your friends dies?” Dean asked.

“Yes. Always midnight on the dot the day before one of them dies.”

Annabelle tilted her head and jotted that down before asking her question. “Did you see these friends shortly before their deaths?”

Davin thought for a moment. She nodded. “Yes. Yes, I did. I saw each of them the day before the banshee screamed.”

“I think that’s all we need. Thank you, Davin.” Annabelle wrote something down before ripping out a page from her note pad and handing it to Davin. “If you notice anything else, call me.”

“Thank you, Angelina.”

We all stood up to leave and said our goodbyes with a smile. Once we were in the Impala and a little ways down the road, I asked, “What’d you tell her?”

“What do you mean?” Annabelle asked.

“How’d you get her to open up to you?”

“I assured her that she wasn’t a suspect in a federal investigation. The badges scare people when all of their friends are coming to an untimely demise. I think something else is going on here. I don’t think it’s just a banshee. Someone’s targeting this girl’s friends.”

“What do you think it is?”

“It might just be another human being, but we’ve still gotta help her.”

“We’ll do what we can,” Dean said then added, “but if there’s any sign of an angel, we’re leaving town, got it?”

“Yeah.”

When we got back to the motel, we all focused on different things. It was around eleven thirty when Annabelle’s cell phone rang. Annabelle frowned at it before picking up.

“Hello? . . . Calm down, Davin.” Annabelle looked at Dean and I, and we started packing up the salt, salt rifles, and iron weapons. “Okay. We’re on our way… I understand. We’ll be there soon.” Annabelle hung up. “We need to hurry. Davin says the banshee will disappear at midnight.”

Wordlessly, we grabbed the weapons and headed to the car. When we got to Davin’s house, Annabelle jumped out of the car and ran to Davin’s door before the car even came to a complete stop. Annabelle left the Impala’s door open, and I could hear the banshee singing. It was a sweet singing, not at all unpleasant like the screaming described in a lot of legends. I saw Annabelle salting the doors and windows of Davin’s house as Dean and I got out of the car. We ran inside to help her, but she was already finished.

We each grabbed a salt rifle from the Impala and headed for the Eagle Creek Reservoir. We found the banshee quickly and got between her and the water. Dean and I flanked Annabelle. We put our guns at ready. Annabelle started talking to her.

“Whose clothes are you cleaning?”

The banshee sang her words. “Yours. Your time draws nearer and nearer yet.”

Annabelle looked horrified for a moment but quickly hid it. “You need to leave.”

“Why? I am doing my job.”

“You’re scaring someone. You need to leave.”

“That is not a wish.”

“I wish you would leave.”

The banshee disappeared, and the night fell silent. Dean and I put our guns down. Annabelle looked to us. “I guess we can focus on finding whoever is targeting Davin’s friends now.”

“That would be me.” The voice came from behind Annabelle.

Annabelle whirled around drawing her angel blade. Davin stood behind her, but her eyes were glowing an electric blue now. Dean and I drew our blades and flanked Annabelle again.

“Perhaps I should have been the prime suspect in a federal investigation.”

“What have you done?”

“Well, I had to get your attention somehow, didn’t I?”

“And I suppose you want me to willingly give up too?”

“That would be a bonus.”

“Ha. Not happening.” Annabelle’s voice was filled with bitterness, and without another word, she stabbed the angel. “Let’s go pack up as fast as we can and get out of here.”

All three of us took off toward the Impala. We packed as fast as we could and drove all night and through the next day. The first time we stopped for gas, we were attacked. Annabelle banished the angels right off the bat. We drove all the way to Eatonville, Washington, before stopping.


	45. Annabelle

I wanted to keep running, to be safe; but Sam and Dean had stopped in Eatonville, Washington, after seeing a news report about recent murders involving people with their hearts ripped out in a gas station there. We didn’t have the money to stay in a motel so we found an abandoned house that looked safe to shack up in. The boys were exhausted so I insisted they sleep while I looked into the reports. When they woke up, we would go look at the bodies.

I didn’t do any research on the murders. I opened a few articles and wrote down the names of the victims, but I couldn’t focus. I found myself thinking about what the banshee had told me and what Zoe had told me before we met the banshee.

_The next time we meet, you will comply, or you will die._ Zoe’s words echoed through my mind along with the banshee’s. _Your time draws nearer and nearer yet._

It was the beginning of May now. We’d made it almost a week, but I knew we couldn’t run like this for very long. It wouldn’t be long now, and I knew that. I wasn’t going to give in to Zoe. That was my choice and always would be. The banshee was probably right: I was going to die soon.

I was terrified. I didn’t want to die. I wanted to keep living, keep saving people, and most of all, I didn’t want to leave Sam and Dean. They had taken me in when no one else would, and I had learned so much from them. Next week marked one year that I had been traveling with the boys, and it wasn’t nearly long enough. I thought it was time to figure out a plan for when we had to face Zoe. I picked up my phone and sat on the wrap around porch outside. I dialed Castiel’s phone number and waited for him to pick up.

“Hello, Annabelle. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. I just need to talk to you about Zoe.”

“What is it? Have you found something new?”

“No. We just need to discuss what we’re going to do when we have to face her.”

“I will not be there when you face her.”

“You can help me figure out how to get rid of her though. We can’t keep running from her. We need something that she won’t expect.”

“Do you have any ideas?”

I studied my angel blade for a second before replying curiously, “Can you melt down an angel sword and make bullets out of it?”

The line was silent for a long time while Cass thought that over. “That may be possible.”

“Will you try it?”

“Yes.”

“Can you make them to fit Sam, Dean, and my guns?”

“Yes. Is that all you need?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Cass. Let me know when you have that done.”

“I will.” The angel hung up, and I went back inside.

It was easier to focus after I spoke to Cass, and I was able to accurately identify our monster as a werewolf. Sam and Dean slept for nearly twelve hours. I didn’t bother them. They deserved the extra rest. It had been a long day of traveling. When they woke up, it was too late to go see the bodies so we headed out for dinner. We sat at an isolated table in a diner and discussed what I had found.

“It’s definitely a werewolf. All the victims are missing their hearts, and the local authorities are trying to play the murders off as animal attacks. The killings are all centered on the same area.”

“Sounds like a pretty normal case,” Dean said.

“Should be easy for a change,” Sam remarked.

“Yeah,” I agreed, “we should be in and out of town in no time.”

With that, we fell silent and finished our meals. We went back to the house, and I slept for a while. My nightmares seemed to get worse.

I was standing in the cemetery with Dylan and Marina. They were staring me down with cold, dead eyes. Marina spoke up first.

“I thought you loved Dylan, Annabelle. I thought we were family. Why did you kill us? Why did you leave us here?”

“Annabelle, I loved you. I loved you, and you killed me. The monsters were right. You’re a killer. I thought we had something.”

“It wasn’t my fault. You accepted the angels into your bodies. You did this to yourselves.”

“You didn’t have to kill us!” Dylan sounded angry now, and his eyes began to glow the way angels’ eyes do. “You could’ve woken us up! You could’ve warned us!”

Dylan and Marina both took a step toward me. I stepped back and tripped over a headstone. I fell into a deep, dark hole. When I hit the bottom, I got on my knees and searched for something, anything to help me see where I was. My hand fell on a flashlight. I picked it up and turned it on. In front of me, a tunnel extended out. I couldn’t see the end of it. Behind me was the same. Something groaned to the right of me. I whirled around, and the flashlight’s beam fell on the broken and bloody forms of Sam, Dean, and Cass. They were locked just out of reach in a cell. I dug through my pockets for the lock picks Dean had given me. At the sound, Dean looked at me, blocked Sam and Cass with his body.

“No, please, don’t hurt us anymore. Leave us alone.”

“Dean, what are you talking about? I won’t hurt you. I’m gonna help you.”

“Why did you beat us? Why did you lock us in here? I thought we were family. I thought you were on our side.”

“I was, I am. What are you talking about? I would never hurt you.”

“Just leave.”

Dean waited for me to leave. Instead, I found the lock picks and started working on the locks. When Dean saw this, he yelled, “Go!”

His voice was so intense it was almost a growl. It startled me to hear him talk in such a harsh tone, and I started running down the dark tunnel with no idea where I was headed. The directions of the tunnels started changing on me, but I couldn’t stop running. Finally, I fell down another shaft. The flashlight fell before me, illuminated shadowy wings, and the dream faded out.

I woke up with my nails digging into the sides of the dusty old couch I had fallen asleep on. I was tangled in my sleeping bag, drenched in sweat, and trying to catch my breath. I glanced around the empty room and relaxed when I realized it was just a nightmare. I untangled myself and stumbled to the bathroom.

My hair was everywhere, and my eyes looked wild. I splashed some water on my face before turning the shower on and brushing out my hair. Once I was sure I had all the knots out of my hair, I got in the shower. The hot water eased my muscles and momentarily cleared the nightmare from my mind. I cleaned up and stood under the water until Dean knocked at the door.

“Hey, don’t use all the hot water, kid! Sam and I’ve still gotta clean up!”

I turned off the water and reached for a towel. “All right! I’ll be out in a little bit. Are we going to the coroner’s?”

“Yeah, might as well get dressed up while you’re in there. Are you all right with posing as Angelina again?”

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

I heard Dean walk away, and I dried off and dried my hair as fast as I could. I curled my hair this time and dressed in a skirt and blouse instead of slacks. I wore the same flats and did my makeup the same way. Dean, Sam, and I ate before we headed to the morgue to see the bodies.

There were three victims so far, and the bodies were more gruesome than I expected. The first victim was an African-American man named Christian Nathanson. He was a devout Christian, and no one could think of who would want to kill him. Everyone said he was a wonderful man and that his loss was felt throughout the entire town. His chest was torn open, ribs and all, and his heart was gone.

The second victim, Joel Samuels, had almost the same story: African-American, devout Christian, no enemies. His cause of death was the same as Nathanson’s. The same went for the last victim, Caleb Read. So, we knew who our wolf was hunting, and there was only one church in the area where the murders took place. Upon talking to the victims’ families, we found out that all of the victims attended that church the nights they were killed.

“So, what do we do next, Annabelle?” Dean asked once we were in the car.

“We arm ourselves and stake out the church. Take out the wolf before it can hurt anyone else.”

“Well, how do you know that the wolf isn’t someone in the church?”

“I . . . don’t.”

“How are you going to find out?”

“I’ll . . . I’ll . . . I don’t know. What are we gonna do?”

“We’re gonna go to church.”

“As FBI agents?”

“As normal people.”

“Seriously?”

Sam nodded and explained Dean’s idea. “If we go and talk to everyone in the church as FBI agents, they’ll be suspicious. They won’t talk much. If we go as regular people who want to go to church, they’ll accept us. We can talk to everyone and claim to be interested in becoming members of their church. We’ll say we’re concerned with our safety with the recent killings.”

“Oh, I see. Okay. Let’s head to the church then.”

The drive to the church was about half an hour since it was on the outskirts of town. My thoughts wondered to my nightmare from the previous night. Dean pleading me not to hurt him, Sam, and Cass anymore. Thinking it over, this whole thing with the angels was wreaking havoc on Sam and Dean. They were exhausted. They had dark circles under their eyes. Cass was fighting more than us. He was probably up in heaven fighting right now, and I had bothered him over an idea for a weapon that might not even work. Maybe I was causing them pain, just not physical pain, but what could I do? I couldn’t just run . . . could I?

I shook my head as if to shake the thoughts out of my mind. Sam, Dean, and Cass needed me. They were my only connections now, and the angels that were with Zoe would hunt Sam and Dean even if I wasn’t with them. I couldn’t leave, not now.

Dean knocked on the window of the Impala snapping me out of my thoughts. I opened the door and got out of the car. Dean looked at me worriedly.

“Are you okay, Annabelle?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking, sorry.”

“What’s on your mind?” Sam asked.

“Nothing,” I lied.

“All right.” Dean gave me a We’ll talk later look. “Let’s go talk to the priest.”

A group of men and women from many different ethnic backgrounds were painting sets and gluing posters with mottos from the Bible like “Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything” to cardboard. I had to resist the urge to scoff at that statement. Sam and Dean gave me a questioning look.

I whispered, “They’re setting up for vacation Bible school.”

A Hispanic man looked up from what he was doing at the front of the church and said, “Hey, folks! Is there something I can help you with?”

“My daughter and I just moved here, and we’re looking for a new church. My brother said this was a great place. We’re looking to talk to someone who can help us become members,” Dean said.

“That would be me,” the man said as he made his way toward us. He shook Dean’s hand. “I’m Pastor Cabello, but you can call me Kayin.”

“I’m Dean. This is my brother, Sam, and my daughter, Annabelle.”

Sam and I smiled at the pastor.

“Welcome to our church. Follow me. I’ll give you a tour of the church, and then we can get you a membership.”

Without waiting, Pastor Cabello started walking away. Sam, Dean, and I followed him. The church was huge. It was the most beautiful church I’d ever seen. The activities they offered sounded fun too. Finally, we made it to the pastor’s office and he handed Sam and Dean some papers to sign to join the church when Dean asked, “I heard about those people dying around here. Can you ensure this is a safe place for Annabelle to come?”

Pastor Cabello’s mood soured a bit. “Yes, Annabelle will be safe here. Animal Control is doing everything they can to find the animal that is killing people.”

“Oh, that’s great.”

My eyes caught on a stain on the floor as Dean reached for a pen to sign the papers. I knew all too well from cleaning the stains out of our clothes after messy hunts that the stains were caused by blood.

“Pastor Cabello, what happened there?” I pointed at the stain. “I know something that might help get that stain out of the carpet.”

The pastor looked at the stain, back to me with a clearly forced pleasant smile. “I just spilled a little of the grape juice from communion last Sunday. The janitor will take care of it. Thank you though, dear.”

I returned the smile. I saw Sam studying the stain out of the corner of my eye. Dean finished filling out the papers. He handed them to Pastor Cabello who shook our hands before letting us leave. We said we’d like to stick around for a while and help where we could. Pastor Cabello partnered me with an Oriental girl about my age, and he put Sam and Dean with the men who were building sets. The girl introduced herself as Meiling. I made small talk with her as we worked before I started asking about the church.

“Do you like Pastor Cabello’s sermons?”

“Yes, I like them a lot. They’re really relatable, y’know?”

“Yeah, it’s hard to find a pastor who can relate to both the kids and the adults. That’s good. I think I’m going to like it here. How long do the services last?”

“An hour. Since it’s summer, we’ve switched to one service from eleven to noon, but during the school year, we have two services, one at eight thirty to nine thirty and one at eleven to twelve, with Sunday school from nine forty-five to ten forty-five. It’s a great schedule.”

“That works out wonderfully,” I replied. “How often do you do communion?”

“At the end of every month.”

That didn’t fit with what the pastor said. This Sunday had marked the second Sunday of May. I put Pastor Cabello at the top of my suspect list.

“That sounds like a great idea. I can start every month clean and new.” I smiled at Meiling.

“That’s what I thought when my mother and I started coming here,” said Meiling, returning the smile.

We worked for hours before Pastor Cabello came in and went to where Sam and Dean were working. I noted that he circled the room first, complimenting everyone’s work. A tall, well-built African-American man was working with Sam and Dean. The pastor stopped in front of him and talked briefly with him. They left together. Sam and Dean nodded for me to come with them. I told Meiling I had to go and stood up to leave. The muscles in my legs had cramped up from sitting on my knees for so long. I wanted to move slowly, but there was no time.

Once we were out of the sanctuary, Sam, Dean, and I drew our guns and followed Pastor Cabello and who we assumed to be his next meal to the pastor’s office. After a few minutes of silence, a panicked voice came from within the office. I assumed it was the man the pastor had taken in with him.

“Kayin, what are you doing?”

“Stay calm, Anthony. This is what Jesus Christ wants for you.”

“Kayin, no! Stop!”

That was enough for Dean. He kicked open the door. Sam and I followed Dean inside, taking defensive positions around Pastor Cabello who had changed halfway into his wolf form. The man, Anthony, was laying on the floor. Claw marks raked across his chest, and blood stained his shirt.

“Annabelle, help Anthony.”

The pastor’s hungry eyes turned on me before I could move. “One step towards my meal, and I’ll have you and him for dinner tonight, little girl.”

“I won’t help him. He needs to die, right, Kayin?”

Pastor Cabello nodded vigorously. “He is making my flock unclean. I must protect my flock.”

“What’d he do? Anthony seemed like a nice guy,” Dean protested.

Pastor Cabello turned to Dean; I inched toward Anthony.

“He has sinned. This man is an alcoholic!”

“You’re just cleaning up his mess. I understand that,” I said.

Sadly, I made the mistake of talking halfway through a step toward Anthony. The pastor whirled around, saw the movement, and lunged. I remained calm and fired one silver bullet right into his heart. The pastor fell dead at my feet. I wasn’t concerned with him anymore. I slid off my jacket and kneeled next to Anthony. I laid my jacket over the cuts and applied pressure. Anthony groaned.

“I know. Sorry,” I muttered.

“You killed Kayin.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“No, no, don’t apologize. You saved my life.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. Luckily, I didn’t have to. Meiling had just come to see the pastor and screamed when she saw the scene.

“Annabelle, time to get out of here,” Dean said.

“Yeah, good idea.”

The three of us ran from the church and to the Impala. Sam and Dean congratulated me on killing the wolf and saving Anthony. I just smiled in response. As Dean and I packed up to leave, Sam found a case in Farmington, Utah, for us.


	46. Dean

Farmington was extremely small. The town was only 8 square miles in size. How that could hold vampires with no suspicion of the creatures, I had no idea. Annabelle seemed nervous about the case; I could understand why. She knew that many of the monsters I had been up against in Purgatory were vamps. When Sam told her it was a vampire case, Annabelle automatically looked to me and asked, “Are you okay with that?”

I shrugged. “A case is a case.”

“Dean, come on, really. Are you okay with working the case?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine, Annabelle. We can’t just abandon the town.”

“All right. Whatever you say.”

Annabelle gave me a look that said I’m here if you need to talk. I nodded to let her know I saw it. I still had to talk to Annabelle about her despondency lately. Considering all that the kid had been through recently, it was probably to be expected, but I hated seeing Annabelle so down. She’d brightened up a bit since saving Anthony, but she still wasn’t back to her normal self. I guess I shouldn’t have been so worried; Annabelle was grieving the death of her boyfriend. Then again, it isn’t every day someone has to kill the one they love.

The drive from Eatonville to Farmington took fourteen hours all together. Sam drove most of the time which gave me ample time to talk with Annabelle. I moved to the backseat with her, and instead of hitting what I thought was the problem, I tried to make some small talk.

“What are you thinking about?”

Annabelle blinked as if I’d pulled her out of deep thought before looking at me.

“Oh, um, just the regular stuff, you know.”

“What’s the regular stuff?”

“The next case. Where we’re gonna be next. How everything will play out.”

“Oh. Have you been thinking about Zoe lately?”

“Careful, Dean. According to many legends, names hold power.”

Annabelle avoided eye contact with me as she dodged answering the real question.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Thanks.”

“How’re you feeling?”

“Well…” Annabelle thought for a few seconds before settling on, “I’m alive, right?”

“Is something bothering you?”

“Dean, I killed my boyfriend. One doesn’t just forget about that within a few weeks.”

“I know. Do you want to talk about it?”

“Maybe another time. Right now, I want to keep my mind off of it.”

“Okay, hey, don’t be hard on yourself for it. You had to.”

“Maybe I didn’t.”

Annabelle’s response was so quiet, I almost didn’t hear it. Hidden under a layer of sadness, her voice had an angry tone as if she was angry with herself for not trying to save Dylan. The reality was only the vessel can expel the angel. That would require the vessel of the angel to have some sense of consciousness that the angel was there. We didn’t think Dylan and Marina had that knowledge. There was no way Annabelle could have saved either of them.

“Annabelle, look at me.” I waited until Annabelle lifted her gaze to meet my eyes. “There is nothing you could have done.”

“I could have tried.”

“They would have killed you.”

“Yeah? What if they wouldn’t have? What if I could have woken them up? I could have done something, Dean. Instead, I just killed. Doesn’t that make me just like the angels?”

“No. No, it doesn’t. Listen to me: You had to kill them. You had no choice.”

“I could have at least—”

“Stop. You couldn’t have done anything. You did what you had to.”

“Dammit, Dean! That doesn’t make me feel any better! I killed them! You know what I told Dylan right before I killed him? I told him I loved him! How could I have done that? ‘Oh, don’t forget I love you, but I’m gonna stab you to death now!’ Even if I ‘had to’, I can’t justify it by saying that there was nothing I could have done because I didn’t try! Their blood is on my hands not the angels!”

With that, Annabelle turned away from me and looked out the window. Every now and then I saw her quickly lift her hand and swipe it across her cheeks. Poor kid. The thought ran through my mind. The next time we stopped for gas, Annabelle got out of the car and went into the gas station being careful to keep her head down. I moved back to the front seat, and Sam and I waited for Annabelle to come back. When she came back, she had pulled herself together and even gave a small smile as she handed Sam and I something to eat and drink. She was nearly silent for the rest of the drive.

* * *

When we got to Farmington, Annabelle was still giving me the cold shoulder. We still didn’t have the money to stay in a motel so we found another empty house. I figured I’d go make some money later. Annabelle had forgotten something in the car and went outside to get it. I followed her to apologize for earlier and see if I could help her out at all.

“Annabelle,” I stopped her as she was about to close the Impala’s trunk, “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know. It’s just hard to talk about.”

I detected a slight tremor in Annabelle’s voice. She was looking at her feet, leaning against the trunk.

“What’s bothering you, kid?”

“What isn’t? I’m worried about you and Sam. I’m worried about staying on the right path. I’m worried about how everything will play out. I’m worried that I didn’t do the right thing by killing Dylan and Marina. And I’m scared, Dean.”

The tremor was definitely there now. Annabelle wouldn’t look up. I had never heard her admit that she was scared before.

“What’s scaring you?”

Concern for Annabelle was making its way into my voice.

“I’m scared that,” Annabelle paused, swiped at her cheek, “I’m scared that I’m hurting you, Cass, and Sam. I’m scared I didn’t do enough to help Dylan and Marina. I’m scared that I’m not saving lives, but endangering them. I’m a threat to everyone I come across,” Annabelle sniffled. “I know the only way to end the angel war is for either Zoe or me to die, and I can’t help but think what if I’m the one that dies? What if both of us die? Would that end up being better? And I can see the toll all of our running is taking on you and Sam. You’re so tired, and it’s because of me. I’m just a burden to you.”

Annabelle’s chest shook with each breath she took. I felt anger rush into my blood stream as she talked. I stood in front of Annabelle and lifted her chin so I could see her face clearly. She was crying now, but trying hard not to. Once again, I made her look into my eyes.

“Annabelle, you are not a burden,” I said firmly. “You are saving more lives than you realize. You’re not hurting Sam, Cass, and me. I’m sure wherever Dylan and Marina’s souls are, they know you couldn’t have saved them. It would not be better if you died. The running? It’s part of the job. Sam and I have done it before. It’s no big deal. Where are you getting these ideas?”

“My nightmares. They’re getting worse. Every night Dylan and Marina scream that it’s my fault they are dead, I could’ve done more, and how could I betray them? Then I get past them, and I find you, Sam, and Cass all beaten and bloody begging me to leave you alone. I know in the back of my mind that a lot of it is true. I need to change that.”

“That’s not true. You did what you had to, and Sam, Cass, and I have done this before. Trust me. You’re not a burden. You’re not hurting anyone.”

Annabelle wrapped her arms around me in a hug. I returned it. She held on for a few seconds before letting go and drying her eyes. Annabelle still had a sad, broken look in her storm cloud grey eyes, but she thanked me and said I really helped before going inside. I resolved to talk more with her later.

* * *

After we ate a small dinner, I left to gather money. I spent the night working my way through the few bars in Farmington hustling pool and poker. Overall, I dragged in two grand. That would keep us going for a little bit. Annabelle offered to stay out of the case besides to take out the nest and see what she could get from sympathetic people around the town doing any work she could. Sam and I agreed as long as she was armed. Annabelle promised she was always armed and went on her way. Sam and I saw the victims, talked to the families, and saw the sheriff. Everything seemed fine with them. They were trying hard to keep the murders secret.

Annabelle sent out a quick text while Sam and I were eating at an internet café to let us know she was okay. She said she had made over a hundred dollars over the past few hours. Everything seemed to be fine. I chowed down on my burger and fries while Sam ate forkfuls of his salad and read whatever he was looking at on his laptop. I looked up from my food at him.

“Dude, how can you survive off of that stuff?”

“It’s healthy, Dean.”

“It’s rabbit food.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Whatever.” He paused, clicked a few things, looked back to me. “So get this: all of the bodies were found no more than a mile from the edge of the Farmington Ranches Park near Spring Meadow Lane.”

“Okay, and? That doesn’t really lead us anywhere.”

“Actually, it does. There’s a house at the end of Spring Meadow Lane that was under construction. Everyone just up and abandoned the site.”

“You think the nest is living in an unfinished house?”

“Yeah. It’s worth checking out.”

“We’ll take a look tonight after Annabelle comes back.”

* * *

When Annabelle came back to the house, it was almost six. The sun was setting. Annabelle sat a wad of cash on the table in front of Sam and me.

“Two hundred dollars from housework. You’re welcome.”

Annabelle sat down. She looked exhausted.

“Thanks. Are you up to taking out the nest tonight or do you want to rest up and take care of it tomorrow?” Sam asked.

Annabelle snapped to attention. “I don’t need to rest up. I’m fine. We should take care of it tonight. Where do you think they are?”

“Sam thinks their hiding out in an unfinished house at the edge of a state park.”

“Really? Seems a little too easy, don’t you think?”

“Maybe,” Sam said thoughtfully.

“Well . . . a case is a case. We’ve gotta take care of it no matter what.”

“That’s the spirit,” I said.

* * *

When night fell, we headed out to the house on the edge of Spring Meadow Lane armed with machetes. The house seemed extremely quiet. We all split up to search the house. It proved to be a bad idea.

We agreed to meet back at the front door after we had each searched our parts of the house or to use our cell phones to send out a quick text if we found the vamps. I searched my part of the house and found nothing. I headed back toward the front of the house. I found Sam halfway there. We checked our phones. Nothing from Annabelle. We were almost to the front door when we heard scuffling and a hushed, “Quiet!” Sam and I raised our weapons.

“Who’s there?” I called out.

A woman emerged around the corner with her arm wrapped around Annabelle’s neck hard enough to keep her under control. Annabelle, for her part, was clawing at the woman’s arm and kicking as hard as she could, but she seemed weaker than usual. Something was off. Then I saw the needle drop from the woman’s hand. Annabelle had been drugged, and although she was fighting hard against it, I could see her attempts at getting free getting weaker and weaker. The woman bared her fangs making it clear she was a vamp.

“Don’t move, and the girl won’t get hurt.”

The vamp nodded her head at the door and four other vamps ran out.

“Let the girl go,” I snarled.

Annabelle locked eyes with me. She was now too weak to fight, and her eyes were slowly closing.

“Once we are safe, the girl will be too. Put the knives down now.”

Sam and I followed instructions. The vamp propped Annabelle against a wall.

“Now, don’t move,” she told Annabelle, turned to Sam and I. “Kick those to me.”

Again, we did as told. Annabelle had finally given into the drug and slid sideways down the wall so she was laying on her side. The vamp kicked the machetes farther from herself and came toward Sam and me.

“Don’t fight or the girl will lose her life.”

The vamp hogtied Sam and me, picked Annabelle up and left. Sam and I screamed protest, but it was no use. We heard a truck engine start, and that same truck drive away, probably with Annabelle in it.


	47. Sam

“Dammit!” Dean’s outraged voice rang loud and clear through the now silent house.

I stared in disbelief at the door. How could this have happened? We were so careful. Annabelle’s reflexes had been especially good since the recent angel attacks.

“Son of a bitch!”

Dean was fighting hard against his restraints. The vampire had tied our hands to our feet. We had to get out and find Annabelle. Dean had to calm down for that to happen. I gave my older brother a warning look.

“Dean, calm down. We have to think this through. Do you have a knife hidden somewhere?”

Dean glared at me, but I knew that he knew I had a point.

“I’ve got a pocketknife in my back pocket. Why?”

“If I can get it out, I can cut you free, then you can cut me free.”

Dean let me get the knife and cut him free. He worked quickly to get me out. We both stood up and rolled our wrists and ankles. We searched the house again for any clues as to where the vamps might bring Annabelle. We didn’t find anything helpful. Dean was freaking out.

“Do you think they just dumped her somewhere? They said she’d be safe once they were safe.”

“Monsters lie. I don’t know, Dean. All we can do is find the vamps. Someone will know something.”

“What if they’re gonna give her to the angels?”

“Don’t think like that.”

“Sam, you know it’s a possibility.”

“Get in contact with Cass. Tell him what happened. Ask him to get someone to watch Zoe.”

“Okay. What are you gonna do?”

“I’m gonna go find that truck.”

“How?”

“When someone is abducted, the abductor usually isn’t worried about the speed limit. I can look at recent traffic camera pictures, see if any are our vamps.”

“Good idea. Do that.”

Dean pulled out his phone. I got the laptop from the Impala. I got lucky with one picture of the vamps running a red light. Annabelle was propped between two of the vampires with her head on one of their shoulders so it looked like she was just sleeping. I took one look at the street sign and thought I knew where they were going.

“Dean! I think I know where they are!”

Dean popped his head through the door looking in at me from the next room. “Let’s go then!”

We got in the Impala, and I told Dean where I thought they were headed. Dean agreed, and we sped away to what we thought would be the vampires’ next location.

* * *

Rock Springs, Wyoming was about three hours away, but Dean cut that time almost in half by weaving through traffic and driving way above the speed limit. When we reached the abandoned asylum I thought the vampires were hiding in, we found their truck outside. Dean and I stood still for a minute listening for any sounds that would give the vamps away. After hearing nothing but silence, Dean and I armed ourselves and began searching the asylum. This time we stuck together. We came to a room that I assumed used to belong to a doctor. The five vampires were standing around a desk discussing what they needed to do.

“The adult Winchesters will be after us. We need to keep moving,” the voice belonged to the woman who had taken Annabelle.

“What about the girl?” The question came from a younger vampire.

“She is no longer our concern.”

New anger flared in Dean’s eyes. He burst into the room and held his machete to the main vampire’s throat.

“What do you mean the girl is no longer your concern? What did you do to her?” Dean’s voice was practically a growl.

“There is no need to fret over the girl. She is no longer our concern nor is she yours.”

Dean’s grip on the vamp tightened. “What did you do with her?”

“Do not worry about it.”

“Talk or I’ll kill you!” Dean’s voice rose to a yell.

“Fine, fine. There is an old, forgotten tomb under the Farmington Ranches Park. We left her there.”

Without further ado, Dean killed the main vampire. I killed two of the others. Dean killed the last two.

“Let’s go find Annabelle.”

Dean didn’t wait for an answer. He pushed past me and out the door.


	48. Annabelle

_Cold._

That was my first conscious thought about my surroundings.

_Dark._

I realized my eyes might not be open and blinked a few times to make sure my eyes were open. Once I was sure of it, the thought occurred again. It seemed to echo in my mind.

_Very dark._

I cringed and curled into a ball when a rush of thoughts made my head ache. I remembered getting to Farmington, finding a place to stay, but the rest was a blur. My movement made every muscle in my body scream in protest. A low groan made me jump before I realized it had come from my own mouth.

_What happened to me?_

The throbbing in my head suggested I’d been hit, but when I reached up to touch my head, I didn’t find any bumps or tender spots. I tried to sit up, but a wave of dizziness passed over me. I collapsed again.

* * *

The next time I was awake, it had gotten colder, but my mind wasn’t as foggy.

_Find a way out._

I sat up slowly. Again, my muscles screamed in protest. I knew that meant I must have been stationary for a long time. My entire body was stiff, and although most of the pain had gone away, there was still a dull throb in my head. Gradually, I stood up. I got onto my knees before my head touched the top of my prison. I dropped down on my hands to be on all fours. A sharp pain rocketed from my wrist up my right arm. I rocked back on my feet and found myself leaning against a stone wall cradling my injured arm. Memories flooded back. I remembered the case, and how I’d injured my wrist. One of the vampires had disarmed me with a quick twist of my wrist. At best, my wrist was sprained; at worst, it was broken.

_Get out of here,_ a voice in the back of my mind insisted. Then I registered the smell: mold and something else, something older, fainter. I crawled forward, my injured arm outstretched, hand trailing the wall beside me for a way out. I hadn’t gotten far before my left hand landed on something hard with a rounded end. I moved my hand up a bit and cloth crumbled at my touch. The other scent clicked in my mind, and I jumped back in horror.

_Death._

Had others been trapped in here? How much time did I have? I maneuvered around the body and felt my way down the wall until I found a corner. I turned and followed that wall for a few minutes before I found a door. It was small, and after running my hand over it, I could tell it was wooden, held closed by a lock. I turned and kicked at the door. After a few especially hard kicks, I felt something give. A few more kicks and the door broke. Dim light streamed in burning my eyes. I waited for my eyes to adjust. Once they had, I could tell I was in a larger room lit by a candle. Old grey stone composed walls and a ceiling. Wood made the floor. A brunette in a dark black suit sat at a desk facing away from me. The drop to the floor was only a few feet so I turned my body and lowered myself down.

“Excuse me?”

My voice sounded raspy and startled me. It came too quiet for the man to hear. I cleared my throat and tried again.

“Excuse me?”

The man turned to me, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He had a devious glint in his brown eyes.

“Hello, dear.”

The man’s Scottish accent sent shivers down my spine. Every muscle in my body tensed, and I almost reached for my angel blade, then I remembered it wasn’t there. Something was off about this man. He regarded my tense muscles. He eyed my right wrist, which I could now tell was swollen, before meeting my eyes.

“Oh, don’t worry, I won’t hurt you. In fact, I wanted to offer you my assistance.”

“You’re assistance?” I scoffed. “I can take care of myself, thank you very much.”

“I’m not the type of person you should turn down. Your friends Sam and Dean have formed an alliance with me from time to time you know.”

The pieces started coming together. Brown hair, black suit, brown eyes, Scottish accent, occasionally helping Sam and Dean—I was having an audience with the King of Hell. As the realization struck, I took an uneasy step back. A sinister smile spread across Crowley’s face as he noticed my discomfort. I managed a smug smile of my own.

“It took you an awful long time to find me. What was the hold up, Crowley?”

“Those boys hid you well, my dear Annabelle, but I’ve heard about you. I was sorry to hear about the unfortunate deaths of your boyfriend and his sister. I quite liked them.”

Crowley’s sneer said otherwise. I felt like I’d been slapped in the face. It took some work to maintain my own sneer.

“Yeah? Well, it had to happen at some point.”

I used a devil-may-care tone and walked leisurely to a painting on the far wall of the room. I pretended to study it. I could feel the demon king’s eyes on me.

“What are you implying?”

“Death is inevitable, Crowley. You of all people should know that.”

I didn’t bother to turn to speak to Crowley, and the way the statement sounded so casual even surprised me.

“You know, some color could really brighten up this room,” I added in the same casual tone.

“Are you suggesting you planned to kill the Westons?”

I shrugged. “Why not?”

I turned, and my grin widened seeing Crowley’s surprised expression. I had the upper hand here.

“Didn’t the angels tell you? I formed an alliance. Dylan and Marina were my first assignments.”

Crowley’s jaw dropped, and he stuttered for a moment. I walked over to him, taking my time, and hooked a finger under his jaw. I closed his mouth and hovered inches from his face.

“Careful, you don’t want to catch a fly.”

Crowley recovered from his shock and pushed me away. I easily kept my footing and circled to a chair on the other side of the room near the painting.

“Who’s your next assignment?”

I sat and played with my hair to make myself look disinterested.

“It’s not important, not to you anyhow.”

“It’s very important to me.”

“Sucks for you then. I’m not gonna talk about it. That’s so boring. What do you want with me?”

“I was hoping to form an alliance. What have the angels promised you in return for your kills?”

“Complete control of the world.”

“I can offer you complete control and everyone you’ve lost back.”

“Why would I want that? They died for a reason.”

“Don’t act like you don’t miss them.”

“I don’t.”

Saying that hurt. I missed them with all my heart. They were everything to me.

“What can I offer you, princess?”

“Nothing. There is nothing else to offer me. May you show me the way out?”

“No. Not until we’ve made a deal.”

“I’m not looking to make a deal. I have everything I want.”

“I’m becoming impatient. There must be some—!”

Crowley was cut short when Sam and Dean burst into the cavern. Dean honed in on Crowley with a death glare and pushed me behind himself and Sam.

“Leave the kid alone, Crowley. She’s none of your business,” Dean growled.

Crowley looked between Sam and Dean’s angel blades and disappeared. Sam looked at my wrist worriedly.

“Are you okay? We should go get that checked out,” Sam said.

“I think it’s just a sprain. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure, kid? We should get it checked out just to make sure. What happened?” Dean said.

“I’m sure. One of the vampires just disarmed me. Can we get out of here?”

“Yeah, sure.”

We went to the Impala and drove a fair ways away from Farmington as possible before we stopped. Sam wrapped my hand and we settled in for the night.


	49. Dean

We drove from Farmington, Utah to Pueblo, Colorado. Overall, it took ten hours to get there. Annabelle brightened up a little when Sam told her he had found a witch case in Pueblo. She was excited to help the locals out. Her mood crashed a little after Sam checked her wrist out. It didn’t hurt her much, but the swelling and small amount of tenderness in the joint suggested that it was sprained. Sam said she wouldn’t be able to help out with the hunt. Annabelle begged for a while, and Sam almost gave in until I agreed with him. Annabelle needed all of her strength with all the recent angel attacks. She finally gave up trying to get us to give in and changed the subject.

“So that guy was Crowley, right?” she asked.

“Yeah. The vampires must’ve handed you over to him. What’d he want from you?” I asked.

“Same as every angel and demon wants from me: my trust and loyalty.”

“What’d you tell him?” Sam asked.

“He thinks I’m working with the angels. He also thinks I planned Dylan and Marina’s deaths.”

“He believed that?” I asked, stunned that she had tricked the King of Hell.

“Yeah, I guess I can be pretty convincing,” Annabelle answered in a joking tone.

“Nice job, kid! I’m impressed!”

“It’s not a great accomplishment. What’s Zoe gonna think when she hears? What if she thinks I really have turned against you?”

“She wouldn’t fall for that. Don’t worry, Annabelle,” Sam used a comforting tone to calm Annabelle’s nerves.

“Are you sure?”

“We’re sure, kid. Sam’s gonna go to the library to do some more research. Why don’t you go help him?”

“All right. Let’s go, Sam.” 

Annabelle almost picked up her bag with her injured arm. Sam grabbed it before she could and reminded her she couldn’t use her right hand. Annabelle looked annoyed with the idea, but she held out her left hand for the bag. Sam gave it to her, and they headed out. I prepared to talk to the sheriff and coroner.

All of the victims had different causes of death, and a hex bag was found at every crime scene. We were definitely hunting a witch. I talked with the sheriff about what he and his team had found until the sun was beginning to set. Annabelle called as I was leaving the police department.

“Hey, kid, find anything good?”

“Sam helped me translate some spells and stuff. We left the library a while ago. We’re starving. Where are you?”

“I’m leaving the police department now. I’ll swing by to get you guys, and we’ll get something to eat. Know any good local places?”

Annabelle thought for a moment before answering, “There’s a restaurant called the Pass Key that my mom took me to once after a track meet. It was really good,” she paused and I heard her type something into the computer. “It’s a two minute drive from the motel. It has a 4.5 star review according to Google.”

“Sounds good. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

“See you then.”

Annabelle hung up. She was right about Pass Key. The food there was better than what we usually ate, and it wasn’t that expensive either. While we were waiting for our food to come, we talked about the case. I told Sam and Annabelle about the hex bags, and Sam confessed that the trip to the library had only been to keep Annabelle busy. She was a little angry about that, but she got over it as soon as the waitress brought our orders.

When we went back to the motel, Annabelle fell asleep quickly. Sam was up for a while trying to triangulate the witch’s location, but he soon gave up and went to bed. I stayed up that night to keep watch. I had a strange feeling we were going to be attacked.

* * *

I woke to the sound of my phone ringing. I must’ve dozed off on the couch. I glanced at Sam and Annabelle who were still asleep on the two beds in the room. Once I was sure we were all safe, I looked at the caller ID on my phone. It was the sheriff. I picked it up with a gruff, “Hello?”

“Good morning, Agent Hamill.”

“Sheriff Delgado. Is there a reason you’re calling me at,” I glanced at the clock, “six in the morning?”

“Sorry to disturb you, but there’s been another murder,” he said.

“Where at?”

I moved to Annabelle’s bed and gently shook her awake. She jumped and almost reached for her angel blade until she realized it was me, then she scowled. I woke up Sam as Sheriff Delgado answered, “We’re on Court Street. Just follow it until you see all the cop cars.”

“Got it. We’ll be there soon. Thanks for the notice.”

I hung up and looked at Sam and Annabelle. Annabelle looked curious and excited, but Sam just looked tired. He needed a caffeine boost and so did I. We would get coffee while Annabelle was getting ready.

“What’s going on?” Annabelle asked.

“There’s been another murder. We’ve gotta get ready and go check out the scene,” I answered.

“Coffee?” Sam asked.

“Annabelle, you get ready first. Sam and I will go get coffee and breakfast while you’re getting dressed,” I said.

Annabelle nodded excitedly, grabbed her bag, and disappeared into the bathroom. Sam got up, and we left to get breakfast. Sam brightened up once he had a little coffee. We all got ready quickly, and we were at the crime scene within an hour.

* * *

The body was a gruesome sight even for Sam and me. It had been ripped open as if something had exploded in the poor woman’s chest. Annabelle looked like she was glad she had skipped out on breakfast that morning, but she kept her cool and took notes.

“Do you need a minute?” I whispered to Annabelle.

“No, I can handle it,” she whispered back.

“If you feel like you need to get away for a minute, just go outside, all right?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Eventually, Sheriff Delgado took pity on Annabelle and asked her to search the scene for the hex bag. Annabelle found it in less than half an hour surprising the sheriff. After we made sure there weren’t any more clues to find, we left the crime scene and went back to the motel. Annabelle took a deep breath as she sat down on the edge of the bed.

“That was gruesome,” she mused.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed.

“Are you okay, Annabelle?” I asked.

“Yeah, it just surprised me. I didn’t know hex bags could do that,” Annabelle said.

“Witches can be really bad,” I said.

“And you’re sure I won’t be able to help out this case? I really want to help get rid of anyone who can do that to someone.”

“Your wrist needs a week to heal,” Sam said.

“There’ll be other witch cases,” I added.

“All right,” Annabelle had a hint of resignation in her voice. “How do we find the witch?”

“Ask the locals,” I said.

“Where should we start?”

“Let’s start at the latest victim’s workplace,” Sam suggested.

“Good idea,” I agreed.

We got in the car and headed to Matrix Design Group-ESI. Annabelle whistled at the expensive equipment throughout the building and commented, “Our vic must’ve been a genius.” A man walked into the main room as Annabelle said that.

“Yes, Ms. Arias was a genius. We are all having a hard time coping with her death.”

I shot Annabelle a stern look. She shrank away a little with an apologetic look on her face.

“Sorry, sir. I didn’t mean any disrespect. You just have a lot of cool stuff here. . . .”

“That’s quite all right. Many of the visitors here are impressed with the technology. I’m Mr. David Carter. I’m the president of Matrix. You all must be the FBI agents who are investigating Ms. Arias’ death,” Carter said.

“Yes. We’re Agents Ford and Hamill and this is our intern Angelina DeAngelo,” I introduced each of us.

“Welcome to Matrix. How can I help you?”

“We’d like to talk to your employees. They might have noticed something we didn’t. Did you notice anything strange going on around Ms. Arias?” Sam asked.

“No, I personally didn’t. I’ll show you to the offices, and you may talk to whomever you like.”

“Thank you,” I said.

Carter led us to the offices. We interviewed each of the employees, but found nothing out of the ordinary. We headed back to the motel and brainstormed for a while before we decided it was time to get something to eat.

“You two go ahead. I’ll stay here. I think I’ve got an idea,” Annabelle said.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Just a hunch. I’ll make a personal call while you guys are gone. We’ll see what happens. I’ve got a good feeling about this.”

“All right, just be careful, kid.”

“I will.”

Sam and I drove down the street and got some McDonald’s for lunch. We weren’t gone long, luckily. When we came back, we found the door open and our room trashed. Annabelle was gagged and bound in a corner. The room seemed to be empty besides that. Sam and I drew our guns. Annabelle flitted her eyes in the direction of the bathroom door then back to me. I got the message and led Sam toward the bathroom. Sam slowly opened the door while I covered him. No one was there. The small window was open. Someone had slipped out of it. I left Sam to finish searching the room and knelt at Annabelle’s side. I took the gag out of her mouth and began cutting the ropes that bound her hands and feet.

“What happened, kid? Are you hurt?” I asked.

“No, I’m okay. It was the witch. There’s a hex bag. It’s under the mattress,” Annabelle said.

“Hear that, Sammy?”

“Yeah, I got it,” Sam said.

I finished cutting the ropes, and Annabelle rolled her wrists and ankles. “Thanks,” she muttered.

“No problem. Did you get a good look at the witch?”

Annabelle nodded. “Late teens, early twenties, Latina. So that narrows it down to pretty much all of Pueblo. We still have nothing.”

“It’s something to go off of. We’ll get her,” Sam said.

Sam was right. It took two days before the witch murdered someone else. This time, she chose the evening to take out the victim. We were at the scene within minutes. A small crowd had gathered outside of the victim’s house. Annabelle pulled a hex bag out of what used to be the man’s pocket with the end of her pen. She looked out over the crowd as she did so. I held an evidence bag out for her.

“She’s watching,” Annabelle whispered as she put the hex bag in the evidence bag.

“Where?” I whispered back.

“To our left. She’s got a Pink brand hoodie on. Black skinny jeans.”

I found the girl and nodded to Sam. “Stay here. Sam and I will meet you back at the Impala.”

Sam and I walked toward the girl before Annabelle could protest. She ran as soon as she saw we were heading for her. Sam and I followed quickly, drawing our guns. Eventually we cornered the girl.

“No, please! Don’t hurt me!” she cried.

“Drop the act. We know who you are. Don’t stick around your own crime scene next time,” I said although I knew there wouldn’t be a next time.

The girl’s lips split in a sinister grin. “Yes, but now I have that precious little girl you brought along with you trapped. The angels have offered a great bounty out for Annabelle. She’s fighting off angels as we speak.”

“No, you wouldn’t work with the angels. You’re bluffing,” I said trying to convince myself more than the girl.

Shots fired back at the crime scene, and I knew the girl wasn’t kidding.

“Poor little Annabelle. The angels will have so much fun with that insufferable little girl. Zoe is quiet upset with her. She doesn’t like being defied.”

Sam had heard enough. He fired his gun and killed the girl.

“Let’s go find Annabelle.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. We ran back to the crime scene, but we were late to the party. Several citizens and officers lay dead, their eyes burned out of their skulls. They had been smitten. Annabelle stood in the middle of the destruction over the bodies of three angels. She had a fourth by the collar and spat the words, “Tell Zoe to come do her dirty work herself,” before stabbing the last angel. It fell dead at her feet. Annabelle surveyed the destruction for a moment before her eyes fell on Sam and me. Her eyes burned with an anger I hadn’t seen in her before, and her voice was cold when she spoke.

“Are you two all right?”

Sam and I nodded. I couldn’t find my voice. Annabelle spoke as if she was giving orders.

“Good. We need to grab our bags and get far, far away from here. They guaranteed there would be more angels here soon, and I, for one, don’t want to see anyone else die.” When Sam and I stared blankly at her for a second, Annabelle said, “We need to go. Move, now!”

That set Sam and I into action. We followed the teenage girl to the Impala, drove back to the motel, gathered our things, and got back on the road heading for the east coast.

“Where do you want us to stop?” I asked Annabelle.

“We won’t stop unless we have to. Just go far and go fast, Dean.”

Her tone had softened a bit, but her words were still orders not requests. I had a feeling this change may have had something to do with the fact that Annabelle felt like this was her war and no one else should have to fight it. It was good that she was taking leadership, but I would have to make sure she didn’t take on more than she could handle. After all, she was still just a kid. For now, the best I could do for Annabelle was follow her orders and keep her as safe as I could.


	50. Sam

The next week was spent on the road. Each time we stopped for gas or something to eat, we were ambushed by more angels. Annabelle fought as if she’d been preparing for this her whole life. She took out the majority of the angels, and for the time being, what she said happened. After two days of travelling nonstop, none of us had gotten much sleep. As far as I knew, Annabelle hadn’t slept at all. She was quiet, calculating. When she spoke up, she used the same tone she had been using since the attack in Pueblo: cold, demanding, and in no way the Annabelle I had come to know.

“Sam, next time you see a car worth stealing, pull over,” she said, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“What? Why?” Dean had woken from his cat nap and sounded alarmed.

“The Impala is too obvious. We need something less… attention grabbing.” Annabelle chose the words carefully and moved on from the subject. “Here’s what’s gonna happen: when we get out of the Impala, we’re gonna be ambushed. Sam, you and I are gonna cover Dean while he gets the car started. Dean, don’t worry about Sam and I. Focus on the car. Sam and I will take out all of the angels, then we need to get in the car and drive. Got it?”

Annabelle’s tone said it didn’t matter if we got it or not. She was right about the Impala being too obvious, and she was right that this needed to happen.

“Got it,” I answered.

Dean mumbled something under his breath about not wanting to leave the Impala.

“Dean, we can come back for the Impala after this is all over,” Annabelle assured him.

“Fine, fine.” Dean muttered.

* * *

We had reached the town of Strong, Maine when I decided on a car to steal. Annabelle was right about the angel ambush. As soon as we opened the Impala’s doors, five angels appeared in front of us. Annabelle immediately sprang into action. Four of the angels were dead before I could even react. The last one grabbed Annabelle and turned her around, leveling his blade at her throat. Annabelle just laughed.

“What are you laughing about, girl?” the angel asked angrily.

“Oh, nothing. You just made a really stupid mistake.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dean freeze and turn to see what was going on. I readied my angel blade at the angel.

“Let her go,” I growled.

“No. Zoe gave orders for me to bring the girl to her.”

“What? Zoe can’t come get me herself?” Annabelle asked.

I could’ve sworn I saw some mischief glint in Annabelle’s eyes. She was planning something, I just had to keep the angel talking.

“She would prefer we tried to get you this way before she tried a more direct approach.” The angel sounded as if he’d rehersed this.

“Why should you have to do her dirty work?” I asked.

“It is not dirty work. It is an honor.”

Annabelle snickered. “It’s an honor to babysit a human teenager?”

“You are not just any teenager,” the angel said.

“Yes, we know, and it’s my job to keep her safe,” I said.

The angel laughed, and Annabelle took her chance. She elbowed the angel in the stomach, grabbed the hand with the blade, and twisted his arm. The angel dropped the blade, and Annabelle pulled him closer to her.

“I told you you made a stupid mistake,” I heard Annabelle growl before she stabbed the angel.

Dean had the rusty Ford truck started now. It took a few seconds for Annabelle to realize we were staring at her. When she did notice, she snapped, “What are you looking at me for? Move our bags. Let’s get out of here!”

That set Dean and I into motion. Annabelle grabbed her bag, the laptop, and the bag of extra weapons we kept in back. Dean and I grabbed our own bags. We threw them carelessly in the truck, got in, and resumed our drive. This time, we headed south.

* * *

When we got to Charleston, South Carolina, Annabelle got restless and went for a walk after we had finished fighting off the angels. I followed after her to make sure she was okay. When I caught up to Annabelle, she was looking out over the Charleston Harbor. She had a vacant look in her eyes and jumped when I came up next to her.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” I asked.

“Yeah.” Annabelle’s voice dropped to a whisper so quiet I barely heard it. “Sam, I’m scared.”

“I know, Annabelle. It’s gonna be okay.”

“How do you know?”

“I just do. Trust me.”

“I trust you. We can’t run forever you know. We’re gonna have to face her soon.”

“I know.”

“Sam, if it doesn’t go well for me—”

“Listen to me, Annabelle,” I cut her off, not wanting to hear the end of that sentence, “you’ll be fine. We’ll all be fine.”

“We need to face the fact that one of us might not make it out of the fight. Just hear me out because they’ll target me not you and Dean. If it doesn’t go well for me, if anything happens, I don’t want you and Dean to try to bring me back or to even miss me for that matter. I want you guys to keep going and forget about me, okay?”

Annabelle’s voice was hoarse, and it was obvious she didn’t expect to survive this. A million different thoughts ran through my mind. I wrapped my arm around the teenage girl’s shoulders and said softly, “We could never forget about you. You’re a Winchester now. You’ll be okay, Annabelle. Everything will turn out okay.”

“Okay . . . Don’t tell Dean about this conversation. I don’t want him to worry.”

Annabelle wriggled out of my grip and turned to look at me. I couldn’t help but notice how old her eyes seemed. It was as if she was older than fourteen and tired. I’d seen that tired look before. The last time I saw it, it was in Dean’s eyes. I knew it meant she was ready to lay down her life, and would, if it meant that she could save even one life.

“I won’t say anything if you answer this question: What’s up with the drill sergeant attitude lately?”

“I’m just taking charge. They’re only attacking you and Dean because of me. I might as well take responsibility for my part of this war. I owe you guys an apology for being so cold. Thank you for cooperating with me though.”

“What do you think about all the angel attacks and what happened in Pueblo?”

“I think that these attacks are Zoe’s way of telling me it’s time to make my decision: Comply or die. There’s no way I’m complying. That’s what we’re making clear by taking out her angels, but she doesn’t want to hurt me. She must think she has some way to make me turn to her with all the chances she’s giving us instead of just showing up herself. As for Pueblo… I’m just sorry I wasn’t able to save those people. Those officers tried to defend me. They were really brave.”

“Yes, they were. Annabelle, you don’t blame yourself, do you?”

“They would still be alive if I hadn’t been in Pueblo.”

“It’s not your fault. It’s on the angels.”

“Yeah, I know. Sam, when we face Zoe, let me be the one to kill her. No matter what happens, I want to be the one to end this. I need that much after everything that’s happened.”

“Okay. You can be the one to kill her.”

I understood Annabelle needed closure, and I wasn’t going to get in the way of her getting it. Annabelle hugged me tightly. I returned the hug and heard Annabelle whisper, “Thank you, Sam.”

I murmured, “No problem, Annabelle.”

Annabelle let go of me, straightened, and resumed her serious act. “We should get back on the road. Dean’s probably waiting.”

“Good idea.”

Annabelle and I walked back to the truck together. When we got back in, Annabelle suggested we head for California. A day later, we were in Albuquerque, New Mexico. The angel attacks were slowing down making us all feel more on edge. We knew slowing attacks meant Zoe was getting impatient, and Zoe getting impatient meant that we would have to face her soon. Annabelle remained calm despite the looming threat, and I honestly thought she was the glue holding us together. The anxiety Dean and I were feeling could be felt in the air, but Annabelle radiated a cool and collected energy. When either of us got upset or worried about when the next attack would be, Annabelle would say a few comforting words to calm us and coax us to get back on the road. Annabelle didn’t sleep at all as far as I knew and that worried me, but she seemed to have everything under control so I didn’t ask questions. We continued on the road to California.


	51. Annabelle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter.
> 
> Warning: Major character death.

After three days without sleep, I finally crashed in the back seat of the truck we had stolen. I hadn’t been tired a few minutes before so my sudden lack of energy surprised me. The adrenaline must’ve finally worn off, I thought before I gave in to fatigue. When I woke in my dreams, I knew that my sudden energy crash definitely wasn’t an adrenaline rush wearing off. I stood in the front yard of my old home in Colorado. Dad, Mom, Lisa, and Andrew stood on the porch. They smiled and waved at me. Uncertainty crept into my mind. What if this was just another nightmare brought on by Zoe? Someone put a hand on my shoulder. I jumped, ready to attack, and turned to find Castiel.

“It is truly them. Go. Be with them,” the Angel of Thursday urged. “You earned this visit.”

With Castiel’s reassurance, I turned, ran to the porch, up the five stairs, and into my family’s arms. It had been months since my last visit with them. Tears blurred my vision.

“What’s wrong, sissy?” Lisa asked as the tears spilled over my cheeks.

“Nothing, Lis, I just missed you all.”

Lisa smiled at my use of her nickname. I returned the smile and fondly ruffled the small girl’s hair. I looked to Andrew. He smiled widely at me. The last time I was here, I had convinced him that he was protecting the family. I stood straight and saluted him, and he saluted back. I knelt to eye level with him and faked a stern look.

“Have you been keeping Mommy, Daddy, and Lisa safe?”

“Yes, Annabelle!”

“That’s a good little soldier,” I smiled.

Andrew hugged me and whispered, “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” I whispered back.

Andrew straightened and asked, “Have you been keeping the world safe?”

I glanced at Mom and Dad. That same question was in their eyes. I’d talk to them alone later about everything that was going on. The answer that I gave the children was, “Yeah, I have.”

“How’s your boyfriend?” Dad asked.

I looked down, wanting to avoid the question. I wished with all my heart that Cas would’ve brought Dylan and Marina here so I knew they’d forgiven me. With all the running, it was only a matter of time before one of us collapsed because of exhaustion. We were going to have to face Zoe soon, and I had a sneaking suspicion the meet-and-greet would end badly for me. I needed some sort of closure; I needed to know that Dylan understood. My mother lifted my chin, saw the pain in my eyes, but I forced a smile and said, “He’s fine.”

“Andrew, Lisa, why don’t you go play while Mommy and Daddy talk to Annabelle?” Mom said.

Andrew and Lisa ran off. I sat on one of the stairs and buried my face in my hands. Mom sat next to me and put a hand on my back.

“What’s going on, sweetie? Is Dylan really okay?” she asked.

I shook my head. Despite how hard I tried to keep it steady, my voice shook. “He’s dead. An angel possessed him. I had to kill him.”

“Annabelle, I’m sorry,” Dad whispered.

“It’s okay. We’ve got bigger things to worry about,” I regained my composure and stood up. “Have any angels bothered you besides Cas?”

“No,” Mom said, “why? What’s going on with the war?”

“Zoe’s getting impatient. She set a trap for Sam, Dean, and I in Pueblo, and her forces have been ambushing us ever since. We can’t stop for more than a few minutes. We’re heading for California now, but we can’t run forever. We’ll have to stop soon. That’s when we’ll face Zoe.”

I saw worry creeping into my parents’ eyes as I spoke, but they deserved to know what was really going on.

“Just be careful, all right Belle?”

I grinned at my father’s use of my old nickname. He hadn’t used it since I had decided I’d grown out of it when I was ten. Now, the name brought nothing but comfort.

“I will, Dad. Everything will be okay,” I assured him.

“How are Sam and Dean doing?” Mom asked, her voice quiet and laced with worry.

“They’re tired. They haven’t slept for three days.”

“Oh dear. How long until you’ll stop?”

“California’s another day’s drive away. I’ll make Sam and Dean sleep when one or the other isn’t driving. It’s not fair for them to have to lug me around like this. I should be fighting the angels alone.”

“You’re doing as much as you can, Annabelle, and those boys would never let you face the angels alone. I’ve seen how they treat you. Both of them love you like you’re their own child. They’re good for you. They’re your new family.” Dad said.

He was right. Sam and Dean were my adoptive guardians now. They were family, and I loved them like family, too. But I hadn’t had much luck with those I’d fallen in love with, considered family. I needed to keep them safe no matter what. One way or another I would make sure Sam and Dean were relatively safe. I didn’t point this out to my parents. Instead, I said, “Yeah, but they can never replace you guys.”

Castiel appeared next to me, and I felt my heart sink. I knew he was here to take me back to the real world. I knew I had to go: it was my responsibility to go back and make sure Zoe didn’t hurt anyone, but I didn’t want to leave my family so soon.

“I will give you a few minutes to say goodbye,” Castiel said, a twinge of sympathy in his voice.

“Lisa! Andrew!” Mom called in the direction the children had run off in.

It took a few minutes for the two to come bounding back toward us. As soon as they saw Cas, they knew what was going on. They rushed to me and tackled me with a hug.

“Do you have to go?” Andrew whined.

“Can’t you stay a while longer?” Lisa asked.

“No, I have to go. Sam and Dean need me,” I said.

“Aw … Okay. I love you, Annabelle,” Andrew said. 

“I love you, too,” I whispered.

Lisa’s lower lip quivered; her eyes filled with tears. “I love you, sissy!”

Lisa tackled me with another hug. I felt her body shake with a sob and her tears soak into my shirt.

“Don’t cry now, Lis. You’ll make me cry. I love you, too.”

Lisa pulled herself together, let go of me, and stood next to Andrew. I turned to my parents and hugged Dad.

“I love you, Belle. Be careful,” Dad whispered and kissed the top of my head.

“I love you, too, Daddy. I’ll be careful.”

I let go of my father and moved to my mom. She enveloped me in a warm hug and whispered, “I love you. Be a good little hero.”

“I will. I love you, too, Mom. I’ll come see you again soon.”

As soon as I’d said the words, I woke up in the back of the truck. Dean had fallen asleep in the passenger seat, Sam was driving, and Cass was sitting next to me. I felt unwelcome tears sting my eyes at the thought of my family, but quickly blinked them back. Now wasn’t the time to show weakness. I turned my attention to Castiel.

“What are you doing here, Cass?” I asked.

Sam jumped at my voice and looked in the rearview mirror. Obviously, he hadn’t noticed the angel had joined us.

“Hello, Sam,” Cass greeted the surprised hunter. “You should wake Dean. He will want to hear this.”

I gently shook Dean’s shoulder and said, “Dean, wake up. Cass is here. He said you’ll want to hear this.”

Dean lazily opened his eyes and looked around the car noting the presence of the angel. Finally, he rubbed his eyes, sat up, and said, “Hey, Cass. What’ve you got for us?”

“I have the new weapon Annabelle asked for.”

Sam and Dean looked to me, thoroughly confused. I thought about how I would explain this to them. Everything had happened so quickly, I hadn’t gotten a chance to bring up my idea of angel sword bullets. To be honest, I had forgotten to check in with Cas about them. I put on my act of being in charge and having everything under control again before I spoke.

“I asked Cass to try to melt down an angel blade and make bullets out of it. I was thinking we could take Zoe and her angels by surprise. I meant to tell you, but everything happened so fast. So, what’ve you got, Cass? Did it work?”

Castiel nodded and brought each of our guns out from his trench coat. He distributed the weapons and warned, “Use these wisely. Each of you only has three bullets.”

Dean stared at his gun, an amazed look on his face for a moment before he said, “It works just like a regular gun?”

“That’s the idea,” I said. “Zoe won’t expect it. We’ll take her by surprise. Easy enough, right?”

“Yes,” Cass said, “they do work like a regular gun. It should take Zoe by surprise. The weapon’s creation was kept secret.”

“That’s even better,” I said.

I felt a rush of excitement run through me. I couldn’t wait to see the surprised look on Zoe’s face when a seemingly harmless bullet killed her. This was our greatest advantage over Zoe. This gave all of us more of a chance to survive than close-quarters combat like how we had to fight with angel blades. These guns could mean the difference between winning this war and a tragic loss.

“Annabelle, what made you think of this?” Sam asked incredulously.

“You never thought about it? It just seemed like a good idea.” I shrugged.

“You’re a genius, kid,” Dean remarked.

“Aw, come on, anyone could’ve thought it up.”

“Take some credit,” Sam said. “Dean’s right, you’re brilliant.”

“I must leave,” Cass said, saving me the trouble of arguing with Sam and Dean over whether or not I was a genius. “Good luck, Annabelle, Sam, Dean. You will need it.”

Before any of us could question Castiel’s remark about needing luck, the angel was gone leaving us to admire our new weapons. The road to California seemed to be more exciting than nerve racking now.

* * *

When we reached California, I opted we drive into the Redwood Forest. We could lead the angels far away from any civilization and end this war without attracting much attention. Sam and Dean agreed, and we drove farther into the forest than any civilian would be willing to go. We found a clearing and stopped there. I went over a plan with Sam and Dean before we got out of the car. I stood in lead with Sam and Dean to the right and left of me and slightly behind me. The summer sun peeked through the branches of the enormous trees and warmed the clearing. A sudden breeze noticeably cooled the clearing and made it clear we weren’t alone anymore.

“Well, Zoe,” I said, “Come on out. No more hiding.”

Three angels materialized across the clearing from Sam, Dean, and I in the same formation: Zoe, the leader, in front and two angels flanking her. Each were armed with a gun which struck me as strange, but I kept my shock hidden.

“Good afternoon, dear. I assume you have made your choice,” Zoe said. Her voice was as velvety and inviting as always, but there was a cold look in her brown eyes.

“Yes, I have. I have a question for you: since when do angels carry guns?”

“I could ask you the same thing. Dear, we knew you weren’t the brightest, but bringing guns to kill us? That’s just stupid.” A provocative smile played on the angel’s lips.

“We know. We’re surrendering.”

“Now, how am I supposed to believe that?”

“Zoe, we’re not stupid enough to bring guns to face angels. Look,” I put my hands where Zoe could see them, “I’m coming with you. It’s over. We give up.”

“Come here, then, dear.” Zoe watched suspiciously as I approached her. I had only taken a few steps when she said, “Come slowly, dear.”

I slowed down, and Zoe stayed quiet. Once I was close enough to the angel, I motioned for Sam and Dean to shoot the other two angels which they promptly did. Unfortunately, Zoe was able to react faster than any of us thought she would. Within seconds, Zoe drew her gun, took aim at me, and fired. I felt the bullet pierce my skin just below my breast, and it suddenly became hard to breathe. I heard Dean scream something, and someone caught my upper body before it hit the ground. I heard a gun fire and watched a bullet that seemed to be moving in slow motion hit Zoe right between the eyes. Already a lot of blood was accumulating on my shirt. Whoever caught me lowered me slowly to the ground. It was Sam. His eyes were filled with tears, but he was trying hard not to cry.

“It’s okay, Sam,” I rasped.

Breathing hurt, and talking hurt even more, but I tried for the boys. I heard Dean screaming for Cas, but I knew Cas wasn’t going to come. He would be busy in heaven. I was going to die.

“Annabelle …” Sam choked my name out and a tear ran down his cheek.

“It’s okay. I’m gonna be okay,” I gasped feeling as if the world had suddenly run out of air to breathe. “Get – get Dean over here.”

“Dean, she wants you,” Sam called over his shoulder.

I tried to hold myself together for Sam and Dean’s sake. Dean came and knelt next to me. Tears glistened on his cheeks.

“You’re gonna be all right, Annabelle. I’m gonna get Cas here and —.”

“Stop, Dean,” I interrupted. “I’m not getting out of here.”

I reached up to wipe tears from Dean’s cheek. A tear slid from my eye, and I coughed. The taste of blood filled my mouth. I spat the warm red liquid out to the side. Dean grabbed my hand and held it.

“Don’t talk like that, Annabelle,” Sam said quietly, but I knew by the defeated look in his eyes that he knew I wasn’t getting out of this one.

“You’ll be okay, kid,” Dean insisted.

I shook my head slightly. “There’s nothing you can do, Dean. Please, don’t do that,” I said as I looked at the two men who were about to cry.

If they cried, I would cry, and I had to be strong for them. It was all I could do in my last moments.

“Do what?” Dean asked, stifling a sob.

“Don’t cry, both of you. I’ll be okay. I promise.”

I tried to squeeze Dean’s hand, but I was too weak. I could feel the puddle of blood growing around me.

“What are we supposed to do when you’re gone?” Sam asked.

“Give me a hunter’s burial and move on.”

I gave a sad smile and coughed again. More blood flooded my mouth and was spat out to the side.

“Relax, Annabelle,” Dean said.

He ran his hand through my hair, pulling it away from my face, and kissed my forehead. A cold darkness began to cloud my vision, and I knew it was time.

“I’ll be okay, I promise,” I whispered one last time and closed my eyes.

The darkness overtook me, and I felt peace for the first and only time in my life. I was gone. It was over.


End file.
